Wired
by silversurf4
Summary: Crews goes undercover and gets slipped drugs. I'm not gonna lie, this is going to devolve into smut - quickly.
1. Chapter 1

**Wired**

She knew the moment it went wrong. Something in his voice sounded different.

Concern (she would later deny) blossomed in her brain at the tone and inflection of his usually calm, level tone. In the back of her head, a tiny warning bell signaled that she shouldn't know his voice that intimately, that she didn't know him that way, that well, but her concern knocked that warning aside like a dead leaf, lost in a stiff autumn wind.

She'd been listening to him on the wire all night as he casually brushed a wide variety of glittery, glib and probably very pretty girls off. He was polite, even kind, but firm in his refusals and one by one they'd lost interest and moved on to easier marks. They were professionals; it didn't take them long to realize he wasn't really looking for love or something like it.

Ever since Roman's death, Ritual had turned into a true no man's land - where everything to be had could be found – for a price. It was probably that before too, but Roman was much better at screening his clientele. Since it no longer had federal protection, Ritual was on vice's list of places to shut down. Problem was that Vice had no one who could fit in there. Only high rollers got past the velvet rope.

But Charlie Crews had both the cash and gravitas to get in. What's more Crews was known to play on the rough edge of the law, so it wasn't a stretch that he'd dabble in the seedy side of the high priced escort services and designer drugs. Naturally, he'd volunteered and when he did - he inadvertently committed both of them to a Friday night at work. He'd later apologized to a scowling Dani Reese, when it became clear she would not let him do undercover work without her backing him up. He'd argued that Vice was covering him, earning him a dark look and eye roll. Dani Reese had many faults, but loyalty was not among them. She trusted no one else to watch her partner's back. She was fiercely territorial about him for reasons she didn't care to discuss and would never admit. They shared that protectiveness of each other and distrust of the rest of LAPD. It was well earned.

He entered the club around 10PM and just as his reputation held, Charlie Crews was a proverbial "chick magnet." Regardless of whether it was his brassy hair and pale looks or his untold millions that attracted them; he was doing very well with the ladies. He was rubbing elbows, buying drinks and chatting. Occasionally, he talked to himself. Of course he prefaced his statements to himself with her name, so Vice thought he was talking to her, but she knew better. Because she could give a rat's ass if "_that blonde should really be in college instead of that booth with that banker's tongue down her throat." _Every time he talked to himself, she felt the stares of the several members of the Vice cops also listening in. His internal monologue, addressed to her made it appear they were far closer than they were. Chuckles and leers were exchanged between officers – partially from Crews conversation, which was seemingly with her and partially a function of her own well earned reputation. Everyone there thought they were sleeping together and it drove her to distraction. She grounded her teeth until she gave herself a headache, but she couldn't change the past and nothing she said would change the words coming out of Crews' mouth. She needed fresh coffee or a stiff drink and a soft bed, in that order. But that thinking was precisely why she was sitting curbside across the street instead of inside with her partner.

Crews was also supposedly discreetly watching and listening for the telltale signs of prostitution and narcotics trafficking. He fit in because of the money thing, but also because of the ex-con thing and the fact that it was common knowledge he'd removed Roman Nevikov from the world. People accepted that he could travel in both worlds.

All nightlong she'd listened to him politely buy drinks for various girls with different accents, different approaches – none of which worked. They'd chat and she'd even hear the rustling of the mic against his shirt, as these various women ran their hands along his rib cage and whispered in sultry tones against his collar. It chaffed her, but she couldn't or wouldn't admit why. Other women coming on to her partner shouldn't irk her, but it did. She wasn't jealous; maybe she was being protective because at times Crews could seem so innocent. He seemed innocent, but she knew he wasn't.

He also had no trouble with picking up ladies, but he wasn't doing that tonight. Tonight he was all business and talking to himself (her) a lot. The other detectives listening were probably inferring unintended things as Crews continued to note inconsequential things in her ear. "_Reese, did you know they made heels that high? You'd be as tall as me if you wore those_," he commented softly.

There was something intensely personal about the things he was saying to himself (her) and the tone in which he said them. 'Stop talking like I can hear you, Crews!" she growled at him in frustration. She winced as her own voice inside the car sounded like she was shouting. Even when he wasn't here Crews could manage to frustrate, infuriate and test her patience.

Why he always talked her into letting him go "undercover" was a mystery to her. Actually that wasn't true, it was a behemoth silent fact visible to anyone who took the time to look that her struggles with alcohol made her a bad choice for undercover alone in bars. The siren's call of narcotics was also still very strong for her and though Crews never even so much as mentioned it; she knew that he knew. Some nights she sat in the car and damned him for being so perceptive and sensitive to her needs. Another reason she found to be annoyed with him.

When his voice changed from the false friendliness he usually projected to another octave and a tiny slur appeared, she sat up in her seat. The woman currently hanging off him was giggling something unintelligible and Charlie was talking to her, but he wasn't talking to her – he was talking to Reese (again). "Umm, I'mm in trouble here. Feeling somethin' I haven't felt in a long time," he stumbled over some of the words.

The woman murmured, "me too, baby," but Dani knew he was talking to her. She was sure, she'd better be – because she was getting ready to blow his cover and pull him out of there. He'd been drugged and was having trouble – he was fading fast.

She listened to him intently, talking to him now as if he could hear her, "talk to me Crews," she whispered while contemplating her next mover. She'd gotten in a gym visit before surveillance started and was still in sweats with her hair in a ponytail. She examined herself in the rearview while listening for something definitive from Crews.

"Honey, let's get out of here," the woman offered. "How about you take me somewhere nice and I'll make you feel better. I'll make you feel all kinda things," she promised.

"My girl's not gonna like that," he tried to put the woman off. Again Dani felt he was talking to her directly, his voice was low and the words slid awkwardly off his tongue. Crews was usually crisp and efficient in his annunciation and she alone could tell the difference.

"Fuck it," she said to herself and slammed the car door.

She marched toward the bouncer at the velvet rope. Her shield was in the pocket of her sweatshirt, but she was developing a story to get past the man that didn't involve showing him the badge. She would if she had to, but that would burn Crews making him useless to Vice for months.

The bouncer was a tall, thick and muscular; light skinned black man in a tailored suit with a bold tie. Underneath he was probably tatted and branded, but he cleaned up nice. Dani leveled a blistering gaze and him as she stepped over the rope and he raised his arm to stop her.

"You better get out of my way, unless you want some of the ass whooping my bastard husband's gonna get when I find him. Tall, blazing red hair, pale as a vampire? Ring a bell?"

The bouncer dropped his arm and stepped aside. She was going to drag some poor schmuck out of there by the ear and that the bouncer would pay to see. He smiled at his partner as she blew past them and the other man shook his head. "Man, if I had a pistol like that at home, I damn sure wouldn't be here," the bouncer commented to his partner.

As she waded through the suits clogging the bar, one drunk grabbed her ass, which ordinarily would have resulted in her putting him on the floor. Instead she ignored the liquor, the smoke and the frat boy stunt to seek out her partner who she knew was in trouble. Scanning the booths she found him rather easily, the bronze of his hair shining in the yellowish mood lighting. His normally sharp eyes had lost focus and he seemed mesmerized by the woman trying to drag him out of the booth.

"Come' on honey," she coaxed, but Crews remained immoveable.

He shook his head trying to clear it and communicating "no" simultaneously.

"Hey," Dani said loudly attracting the woman's attention. "Get your hands off him," she demanded.

The woman looked at Reese in disdain, "and just what are you supposed to be?"

Dani had never been tempted to hit another woman, before that very instant.

"Let go of him," she growled. She was menacing enough that the woman released Charlie's hand, which dropped limply to the seat.

He stared at his hand like it didn't belong to him for a long moment before looking up. If he said the wrong thing, he'd blow it, so she cut him off. Planting both hands on the table she leaned close and called him a bastard, before slapping him hard.

"We're leaving here now," she said just to him.

He nodded his acknowledgement and tried unsuccessfully to straighten his tie.

"Get up Charlie," she said louder, angry and brooking no argument. The working girls laughed quietly – they had no illusions about the types of men who hid the pale tan line of a wedding band, resting heavily in their pants pocket. Most of the men looked embarrassed. They imagined being dragged out of an upscale bar by the wives they left at home and wisely focused on their drinks.

He made it to the edge of the booth and vertical, but when he tried to walk it was apparent to them both he couldn't – not without her help. She grasped him by the lapels of his suits and dragged him close, urging him "hold on to me," in a tight whisper.

"Reese, I don't feel so good," he slurred back, "actually… I feel way better than I should," he added smiling goofily at her.

"I know," she said tightly, "just hang on to me and I'll get you out of here."

"You feel good too," he mumbled, clutching her close. He couldn't help it; he'd been slipped some "X" – the love drug. It heightened tactile sensations and made everything better. You loved everyone; everything and his protestations to the girl were quite remarkable because you really couldn't say "no" on ecstasy.

"Great," she rolled her eyes, "ecstasy."

"Exactly," he agreed happily, thinking she was commenting on how he felt.

The bouncer grinned and unclipped the rope letting them past. Charlie smiled and thanked the man; Reese just growled, "shut up" at both of them.

The bouncer laughed as Dani continued the charade, "when I get you home, I am going to wear you out," she threatened.

Charlie looked down at his diminutive partner, "are you mad at me?"

"Just concentrate on getting home," she gritted. "Stop leaning on me. You're heavy," she complained. "And watch where you put your hands," she whispered just for him - her lips tight against his ear.

When she leaned back from buckling his long but limber frame in the car, he grasped her face and his lips brushed hers lightly. His breath came to her as a quiet question, but her body wouldn't move, "Wait….did you just say? Are you coming home with me?"

"Crews," her tight whisper made their lips touch. "The wire," she reminded. He let her go and the entire 20 seconds it took to walk back to her side of the car she cursed herself. _Why didn't she tell him to cut it out? Why didn't she tell him not to put his hands on her – not warn him about his choice of placement?_ _Could it possibly be because she wanted to confirm that it was her that he wanted? _Her and not the high priced hookers who'd been running their hands all over him all night while green flecks of jealousy hidden in her soul sparked and flared.

When she looked up, those bright blue eyes of his were following her through the windshield. She literally, thought about that man with those eyes, poised over her in the silent shadows of his giant bed and it pissed her off. Great, now she was fantasizing about having sex with him. Maybe she'd been slipped the love drug.

She peeled out to complete the charade and then dove into the first darkened alley so she could find to remove the wire, before Crews could say anything further to embarrass them both. As it was they'd be the brunt of Vice jokes for weeks because of his comments to her throughout the night. She opened his door and undid his seatbelt.

The wire was taped to his chest running up his sternum so that it projected the best sound. Of course, they meant to get to it she needed under his shirt. She roughly tugged at his tie, then began unbuttoning his shirt, all of which Crews watched mutely with an amused expression. "Crews," she muttered, "help me out here."

"Aren't we gonna wait til we get home?" he questioned softly, his breath tickling her ear and his hands left his thighs to tangle in her hair.

"What are you doing?" she hissed as it dawned on her that he thought she was trying to get in his pants. He would, women had been doing just that to him all night – all night while he talked to her. His mind, which before had been fixated on her in his usual goofy Crews way, was now off to the races in an entirely x-rated version of them together. So it wasn't just her, he felt it too, she realized as she shoved him away. "Take this off," she demanded insistently, focused on the wire.

"We'd have more room at my place," he commented as he watched her untuck his shirt. "The things I want to do to…"

She placed her small hand directly over his mouth interrupting him. "Shut up," she hissed. Just then her cell phone buzzed insistently. "Jesus Christ," she muttered. She couldn't get the wire off him and out of service fast enough.

"You gonna get that?" he asked innocently.

"It's Spagnetti," she informed. "Remember? From Vice?" she suggested.

Synapses fired and he got it. "Oh," he remembered and his hands began to help her. Their hands fumbled together in a hurry to get them off the air. The car heated up quickly and when he sat shirtless and she held the wire in her hands with the switch in the off position she sighed. She pulled the phone and hit redial.

"Yeah," she said tersely, "this operation is indexed. We are done for the night. Meet me at the corner of 9th and Vine to pick up your equipment. We'll debrief in the morning. My partner's not feeling well," she lied.

They barely slowed down enough to exchange pleasantries with Spagnetti before handing him the equipment. Charlie sat quietly, his shirt still open to the waist, looking for all intents like he was interrupted trying to get laid in the back of Reese's very small car.

"What's wrong with him?" Spagnetti smiled, barely containing his amusement.

"Food poisoning," Reese lied again.

"That right Crews?" Spagnetti grinned at him and winked conspiratorially.

Crews felt amazing, but he didn't like the way the Vice cop had eyed Reese earlier. She avoided him, which bespoke a shared history he didn't know and he didn't like. While he knew her libertine ways, whenever he met an ex-lover of hers it made him want to hurt someone. Charlie's eyes glittered as he lied to the man, "that's right. I don't feel well."

No one believed what he said, least of all him. Reese sped off into the dark.

"What is this?" he inquired.

"Ecstasy," she repeated. It makes you feel incredible, but you need to drink something. It increases your body temp and you'll overheat quickly.

"Thanks," he joked. "I thought I was having hot flashes." He continued to take his shirt off leaving just his t-shirt on. "What?" he asked as she shot him a look. "It's hot in here," he commented and tried not to focus on her lips when he looked at her.

They pulled to a stop in front of his darkened house. He climbed from the car and opened the unlocked door, walking straight into the kitchen and opening his fridge. Reese made her way in the soft light from the refrigerator until he shut the door and plunged them back into darkness. She heard the soft hiss of a carbonated beverage as he twisted the cap off and guzzled something she seriously hoped was not beer.

"Crews," she protested. "Uh, how about a little light for those of us who don't live here."

"Sorry," he apologized. She heard the beer bottle hit the cabinet top and him moving. He seemed to rethink his intent and opened the fridge again to retrieve another beer on his way to the light switch.

"Tell me you are not drinking beer," she complained. The light came on and confirmed the second hiss she'd heard was yet another twisted bottle being opened.

He drank greedily and swallowed hard explaining, "… um…I'm really thirsty."

She sighed, looked to the ceiling and counted to ten with her eyes closed. When she opened her eyes, his were staring into her from far closer than was reasonable.

"Reese," he said sounding concerned, "are you okay?"

"Am I…" she hated the whine that crept into her tone, "you've been drugged then you willingly added alcohol to that and you want to know if I'm okay?"

"You're worried about me?" he asked quietly holding her eyes.

"No," she snapped, "yeah," she relented. "I dunno Crews. Should I be?"

He did not respond, instead patiently waiting for her eyes to return to his. He just looked at her with those damnable blue eyes of his. They seemed to hold no lies, but she knew better. For just a moment she forgot where she was, maybe who she was… "How can you look at me like that?"

"Like what?" he demurred while his eyes crinkled at the corners as his smile reached deep into the corners of his face. He wasn't pretending, he was really smiling. "Isn't this how I always look at you?"

"Is it?" she wondered. _Was the problem him? Or her? Or the drugs? Or the beer? Or being alone in his great big house with him on drugs and beer?_

"Reese? Are you trying to be Zen?"

"No," she laughed. "When, in what version of your world, would that happen?"

He continued to gaze at her with a curious expression, but did not reply.

"I need to go," she announced and spun to leave. Then just as quickly she turned around to ask him a question that burned in her mind all evening. But his effort to follow her resulted in a crash; her into his chest and all the sensory influences that were Charlie Crews into her brain. His arms encircled her and she was immediately over her head.

"I never thought you'd be so soft," he murmured into her hair.

"What?" she remarked pushing off his chest. "Lemme go," she protested weakly.

"First answer a question for me," he negotiated. She glared, but made no move to leave, so he continued, "first you were going, then you weren't going…" he let the comment hang heavily in the air between them.

Her head dropped to her chest. She summoned courage and told him what he wanted to know, "I was going to ask you why you talked to me all night."

It was his turn to be mildly embarrassed. He loosened his hold on her, trying to create distance without shoving her away. "I…uh… Those girls aren't real," he stammered. "You're real," he professed shyly. "I mean they're real, but not to me. You're real to me," he ended awkwardly with a very personal implication.

Dani didn't have a response to that stunning confession. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but no words would come. Finally, she stammered, "right…I'm just gonna go now."

"Wait," Charlie held her arm. "My question…" he insisted.

"I just answered your question," she argued.

"No. I didn't ask you anything, I just said what happened," he countered.

"Fine," she said scowling at him.

The awkward atmosphere evaporated under the heat of her glare.

He closed his eyes and thought about the consequences of his question for long enough that she worried. Her hand gently pressed against his chest as he swayed like a reed in the wind. "Crews?"

He dropped his head and again looked at her with his guileless blue eyes. His hand traced the line of her jaw line and cheek. Again she issued his name, this time as a warning. "I was wondering," he began deciding his question was worth the fallout. He could blame it on the drugs, he reasoned. "If everything on you was as soft," he leaned in close intent on kissing her to find out.

He both heard and felt her breath hitch. He tightened his grip on her and pulled her close before dipping to taste her lips lightly. He brushed her lips and felt her tense. He didn't want her tense; he wanted her relaxed. This wouldn't do. He touched just the tips of his lips to the peak of her top lip and pulled away.

Her disappointment didn't tolerate him backing off. She fisted his t-shirt in her hand and pulled him back to her surprising him. Her eager lips met his in a more meaningful exchange, before she released him. In the intervening time, however he'd wrapped his arms around her back and simply tightened.

They were engaged in a dangerous game of one-upmanship. This could get out of control he remembered thinking as his tongue flicked against her lips and he claimed them once again. She moaned into his mouth as his tongue swept in and he captured her breath. This was really kissing, no backing away, no brushing off. They broke as they both became breathless.

"Well?" she asked him teasing.

"Soft and strong, sure and steady," he replied.

"And real?" she wondered.

"Very real," he replied looking deeply into her eyes. "You should go," he told her in a gravelly tone. "If you don't go now, you never will," he foretold.

"Yeah," she agreed breathlessly.

"Dani?" he arrested her movement with just his voice as she reached the door. She stopped but did not turn. "Could I take you to dinner?" Her head cocked to the side considering her answer as he kept talking, "just you and me? No Vice listening in?"

Her hand turned the door lever and she cracked the door. Her voice reached him as she left, "can you cook?"

The air in her wake was crackling with possibilities.


	2. Chapter 2

A week later it was about 4PM when he leaned across their conjoined desks and whispered, "Reese?" to attract her attention. He was beginning to think he'd imagined asking his partner out, but he was willing to risk her wrath to be sure she'd said "yes."

"What?" she looked up from her computer where she was furiously typing. To say she was annoyed was an abuse of understatement.

The reason for his conspiratorial tone was apparent in his follow-up question. "Did I imagine it or did you say you'd have dinner with me?"

She held his eyes. For a moment he felt real fear, then her gaze softened and she nodded just once - curtly. She didn't want this conversation - here.

"Then…" he started in a normal tone.

"Not here," she hissed, scowling darkly.

He sat back in his chair and stared at her.

But after a moment, he continued, despite her warning. No one could ever accuse Crews of cowardice. "I can't cook," he pronounced in a normal conversation tone from the safety of his rolling chair. He grinned at her scowl, infuriating her further. The conversation he was certain he'd imagined did occur. She had agreed to see him outside work and that made him bold.

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly enough. She spent time immersed in paperwork and he researched some leads using the department's intranet – one or two for their cases and then a couple of his own sprinkled in. They wouldn't seem unusual. Detectives often pursued leads that didn't pan out, it was part of the job and way he could use his access to pursue his personal agenda.

He took his cue when she grabbed her jacket to leave, leaping to his feet and shadowing her to the elevator. She stared at him as he climbed in behind her. The doors slid shut with a mechanical ease leaving them alone with "The Girl from Ipanema" playing in the background.

"Is it weird that song is playing in every elevator - everywhere?" he commented.

"Cut the crap, Crews," she shot back. "Why are you following me?"

"You promised to have dinner with me," he stepped closer. "How about tonight?"

"What if I had plans for tonight?" she argued on principle; she had no such plans.

"Do you?"

"That's not the point," she objected. "The point is…. I could have had other plans," she argued as the doors opened and she kept walking to her car.

"But you don't," he countered softly following her, "except with me." His boldness was reflected in his eyes, which twinkled with mischief and excitement.

"What time?" she asked trying to keep up the appearance of boredom and annoyance, "and where?"

"Meet me at my place," he actually had the audacity to wink at her, "7PM sharp."

His car door shut and throaty growl of yet another expensive foreign sports car drowned out her own smaller growl of dissatisfaction. _Smug bastard_ she thought. _He better take me some place nice and I'm gonna order the most expensive thing on the menu._

* * *

At 7:15PM, late on purpose, she drove into the driveway of his mansion. She had showered and dressed three times, before settling on a simple black dress that was neither dressy nor plain. She figured no matter where he took her, she wouldn't be too embarrassed to eat there. She knocked and waited.

He answered the door in black jeans and a grey silk t-shirt, but he was barefoot. His hair was spiky from a recent shower, his face was smooth and she could smell his freshly applied aftershave.

"Running late?" she asked with a hint of humor in her voice.

He looked down at his bare wrist, where a watch would typically be and announced, "Nope, right on time."

She concluded he was a complete nut and he couldn't tell time.

"You look…." he reached for the right word as a list scrolled through his brain. Most of the ones that came to mind he knew would piss her off so he settled for, "nice."

"Quit stalling," she demanded. "Grab your shoes and a jacket and let's go," she looked anywhere but at him.

"Go where?" he asked calmly.

"You asked me to dinner, Crews. Did you suffer a blow to the head since work?"

"I promised you dinner and dinner you shall have," he smiled. "At Casa de Crews."

Suddenly, Dani felt lightheaded and anxious. He expected her to eat here with him, alone. And she'd worn a slinky black dress, _shit!_

He walked slowly his bare feet make small slapping sounds on the marble to the kitchen. She followed mutely in stunned disbelief. The aroma of enchiladas wafted from the general direction of the oven. A bowl of shredded cheese, fresh guacamole and sour cream sat on the island in the center of his kitchen. A Corona longneck with a lime shoved down the neck was sweating on the counter. He picked it up, took a swig and leaned against the counter. He was never going to put on more clothes.

Her expression was beyond surprised; it was shocked.

He was pleased that the usually confident and demanding woman before him was slightly off balance and quiet. "Would you like some water or juice maybe?" he asked gently trying not to spook her. Her car remained in the driveway like a getaway vehicle staged outside a bank robbery. One step too far and she'd flee faster than an illegal alien from the INS.

"I'd like a shot of tequila," she quipped regaining her balance, "but I guess that's not gonna happen."

He shook his head 'no', but smiled at her effort. He opened the fridge and retrieved a green pear shaped bottle of Pellegrino and poured her a glass. His fingers brushed hers as he handed her the glass, an electric current passed between them. Both noticed it and looked away.

"So…uh…how are you?" he tried to break the tension.

"You mean in the 90 minutes since we last saw each other?" her sarcasm was a sign that she was balancing and returning to normal.

He laughed and she smiled at their dilemma. "I'm making enchiladas," he offered cheerfully.

"Thought you said you couldn't cook?" she toyed with his earlier statement.

"There's a woman," he blurted out. "Ted hired a woman. She cleans…and cooks sometimes. I asked her to make something and leave me instructions," he waved a little 3x5 card between his fingers. "Bake uncovered at 350F for 15-20 minutes, then sprinkle with cheese," he read. "I can follow instructions," he commented.

"Hmpf," she disagreed taking a drink of the bubbling water. "How come you never follow mine?"

"Try me," he asked in a sultry tone as he walked to stand nearer to her. "What would you like me to do?"

His eyes never left hers and he dipped his head placing himself very close to her. Her breathing changed and he willed her some of his calm, but his heart was racing too so it was difficult. "I…uh…I'd like to kiss you. Would that be okay?" he breathed against her lips.

She licked her lips in anticipation and canted her head in preparation, but did not answer. He waited for her to make the first move, but he feinted twice and withdrew. Her hand twisted in his silk t-shirt and she threatened against his lips, "do that again and I'll walk out that door."

He smiled against her lips for just a fraction of a second before he kissed her. He kissed her like she'd wanted him to since the night she'd first heard his voice on that wire talking to her. From that night, she'd imagined him talking to her in the cool quietness of their bedroom and the things she'd do to shut him up.

The oven beeped and they broke, while he donned oven mitts and took the steaming dish out. She walked to his side and succinctly ended any conversation about dinner, by telling him "those will take a while to cool. Show me the rest of your place. Start with your bedroom."

He led her by the hand up the spiraling stairs to the top, stopping just shy of his bedroom to pin her to the marble wall with a searing kiss. The dress hem crept up in his nimble fingers as he gathered the material in his hand. Then he touched her skin with his hand and found her wearing thong underwear. Her bare bottom was in his hands and she pulled his t-shirt over his head breaking their kiss.

"So…this is the stairwell," he said breathless and grinning.

She shut him up the only way she knew how. She pulled him down into a kiss that made time stop and hunger something that she could endure. She wanted him more than food or water, more than liquor, more than drugs.

"Lemme show you the bedroom," he whispered into her ear.


	3. Chapter 3

Spagnetti dutifully (and gleefully) made sure to share the transcript of the wire with Robbery / Homicide's Captain as he, and a number of other Vice Detectives found it both humorous and illuminating. Captain Tidwell found it neither. He schooled his features, while his ire rose as he read the lines in black and white on the page.

"She's got a repuation," Spagnetti offered chuckling. "Sounds like she earned it."

His grin was slightly malicious and he took great pleasure in disclosing the transcript and what the language hinted at. The Vice cop had both a mean streak and a grudge against Dani Reese. She'd used him for the tool he was years ago and then dropped him like the proverbial hot potato.

"Get out," Tidwell growled.

"We just thought you should know," Spagnetti advised. "You know? As her Captain."

It was the worst kept secret in LAPD that Tidwell and Reese were an item and had been for several months. Of course, that was before. Before Roman Nevikov took her, held her hostage and chained her to a chair and had her beg Crews to help her. That hurt. She asked Crews to come to her aid; Crews, not him. He wondered if that was her idea or Roman's; they'd never talked about it. Come to think about it, they'd never talked about anything.

Tidwell wasn't stupid; he knew Crews loved Dani. _Why else would you give up everything – forfeit your career and your life to save another guy's girl?_ He also knew Crews would not allow himself to go there; to subject her to the dangers that were his life. _What had changed?_

He walked past the two of them in the bullpen. They sat at their desks looking completely normal. He knew neither one of them was normal, not by a long shot. She was typing a report as he talked to someone on the phone. He watched Crews switch the phone to his other hand and cradle it on his shoulder, writing something down. He spoke sharply to his partner and she shushed him, clamping a pencil between her teeth and finishing her thought before looking up. Crews sighed and waited. He saw no evidence of any change in them, but for the sheaf of papers in his hand.

The elevator dinged behind him and the doors opened. Tidwell got on the elevator and left the office. He took the afternoon to cool off. If he was going to talk to the mercurial little detective, he needed to be sure. She'd be furious either way, but something in her had changed after Roman. Something changed between them. It was as if her trust in him was shaken. Maybe it was her trust in herself, he imagined.

A week after her rescue, he'd convinced her to stay over at his apartment. For a fleeting moment, he wondered why he'd never slept over at her place, but he didn't give it a lot of thought. His invitation did not turn out as he'd hoped. Dinner went well enough, even though conversation between them was awkward and stilted. When they sat together on the couch to watch a movie, he sensed and felt her profound unease. His arm around her lay against tense shoulder muscles and when they went to bed the tension remained. He didn't even try anything remotely romantic. He tried to be supportive and loving as he kissed her on the cheek and rolled over and tried to go to sleep. He listened as she lay in the dark, being still, breathing evenly, but not sleeping. She fled in the morning at first light and hadn't been back since.

She'd been short with everyone after the shrink cleared her to return to work – even Crews felt her temper on occasion, but he accepted it, as he accepted her – without comment or judgment. Perhaps that was his secret. Nothing changed in the way he interacted with his partner. While the rest of the squad treated her with kid gloves and her lover walked on eggshells, Crews acted as though nothing had changed. But everything had changed and it would never be the same.

* * *

At the end of the day, he called her. He knew she'd be walking to her car.

"Uh…can we talk?" he asked awkwardly.

"We are talking," she replied caustically.

"I meant…"

She was patently annoyed. "I know what you meant," she finished his sentence.

"Got a hot date?" he replied.

Empty air met him. His quick wit would be the death of him.

She'd stopped walking. He could envision her reaction. Her tongue was tucked in her cheek and she chewed on a suitable response. She'd raise her sunglasses and squint into the setting sun. "I will talk to you tomorrow, Captain." The call ended abruptly and he knew somehow tomorrow was not going to be fun.

* * *

"What's up?" she asked leaning into Tidwell's office door. She was dressed in a white shirt, a dark blazer, black jeans and black boots. She looked clean, neat, healthy and well rested. She was obviously not falling apart or crawling back into the bottle. If she'd chosen to dump him for Crews, it certainly because of distress or lack of options.

"Shut the door," he directed curtly.

She glanced at Crews, who was seated at his desk peeling an apple with a dangerous looking four-inch stainless steel folding knife. Crews grinned at her as she shut the door. She was smiling when she turned to face her boss and former lover. That smile wouldn't last.

"Talk to me about this," he said handing her the transcript.

She hid the shock well, but not well enough. "It's Crews. You know him…he's nuts."

"So you're not…"

"Not what?" she inquired as her eyes narrowed, her posture stiffened and he could feel her getting angry.

"Nothing," he tried to walk it back.

"Not what? Not fucking? That's what you're asking isn't it? If I'm fucking my partner," she hissed at him in a terse whisper.

"Yes, that's what I'm asking," he stuck his chin out.

"That is none of your business, Captain," she said in clipped tones emphasizing his rank on purpose. She also pointedly had not answered his question. She turned on her heel and walked out, effectively ending the conversation.

* * *

"You okay?" Crews inquired curiously as she emerged and it was obvious from her body English that she was pissed.

"He knows," she growled under her breath.

"Knows what?" Crews played dumb.

She scowled at him and motioned to the stairwell left of the elevator bank. Once inside, she spoke in a low tone, "he knows about us."

"There's an us?" he questioned in a teasing tone.

"Isn't there?" she wondered suddenly unsure.

"Do you want there to be an us?" he bantered back.

"I want," she began determined to dress him down and then she realized he was somewhat serious and earnest. Dani Reese was not a 2.5 kids, mini-van and white picket fence kind of girl. She wasn't looking for a marriage proposal and happily ever after and he knew it. It was his advantage and it made him cocky. Luckily for him, she liked cocky.

"Tell me what you want," his tone was suggestive and full of gravel.

"I wanna drag you into the corner and kiss the smirk off your face," she threatened.

"I would willingly submit," he smiled, "but…" he pointed up at the closed circuit camera in the corner. "Rain check?"

She nodded once curtly and walked back to the bullpen.

"Did you volunteer us for undercover again?"

"Yep, Thursday," he advised. "Spagnetti thinks I'm a natural," he grinned.

"I'll bet," her voice dripped with sarcasm.

A look between them heated the air. Want shimmered. _God damn him_, she thought.

"Will you promise not to talk to me all night?"

"No, I don't think I will," he smiled.

She rolled her eyes in mock protest.

"You are my favorite person to talk to, Reese. Well, my favorite since I stopped talking to myself." He paused for a moment and then whispered loudly, "I did that after the second year in solitary. Even in prison talking to yourself is considered kinda crazy."

"Ya think?" she shot back tersely.

They were fine. They were better than fine; they were content with what they were, which was nothing more than they'd been before. Only now they were that completely. Neither was reliving their past, nor concerned with their uncertain future. They were in the now. Now was pretty great.

"Crews?" she called after him as he readied to leave for the night. "Thursday? I'm coming with you. I'll be in the club with you." The look on her face was both pleased and predatory. It was mildly frightening.

Now it was his turn to be off balance. He smiled, but he didn't know what he was in for. Dani Reese was a wild woman and he knew it. He just didn't know what kind of wild he was going to Ritual with on Thursday night.

* * *

Thursday night, Charlie pulled to the street corner two blocks away from pickup the wire from Spagnetti. A swarthy fireplug looking cop taped the antenna to Charlie's chest before the red head pulled his t-shirt down and tucked his dress shirt in.

Not much conversation occurred, but Spagnetti couldn't resist a parting shot. "Where's your hot partner tonight Crews?" he asked chuckling.

Charlie turned and looked at the Vice Detective Sergeant. "Say that again…" he requested calmly.

"I asked you where your hot little partner…" Spagnetti began. Charlie's hard right hook interrupted him. It was a quick, snapshot of a punch; so quick in fact, most of the Detectives milling about missed it.

They just heard Spagnetti stop speaking and Dani Reese pipe up. "I'm right here," she said drawing every eye in the group.

She was dressed to kill. She was wearing a black mini dress speckled with glitter. It was cut down the back and her skirt showed off her legs, which were covered with a patterned stocking Crews found fascinating. Her dress accented her curves and her bust, which was generally smothered by her coat, but not tonight. Her sheer femininity was obvious and impressive. Her hair was down in loose curls. Hot did not come close. Half the men's jaw's dropped; some actually began to drool.

She reached for Crews and pulled him by the hand back to his Maserati. "Come' on, Crews. Let's go have some fun…" she murmured to him.

They climbed into the car and he sparked the engine to life. His hand left the gearshift and caressed her knee before travelling up her thigh. He said nothing, but his smile said a lot.

They left the Maserati with the valet and as the velvet rope was unclipped, Charlie asked her under his breath, "How do you wanna play this?"

"Haven't you ever had a threesome Crews?" Dani was having fun with both the listening audience and the transcript of their night, which she knew would find it's way to Tidwell's desk in the morning.

His suit suddenly felt very hot and incredibly tight. She was going to shave five years off his life tonight – and that was before the undercover op ended and he took her home.


	4. Chapter 4

He entered the club with Dani Reese on his arm and felt pretty good about that. It was a fantasy that he'd like to indulge more – being able to expression his affection and affinity for his diminutive partner. The feeling didn't last because he almost immediately became aware of the interest other people paid in her. That awakened in him feelings he hadn't indulged in years – jealously, attachment and possessiveness. He knew instinctively adding alcohol was only going to make that worse, but he couldn't imagine getting through the evening without something to steady his nerves.

Funny, how when he walked into the proverbial lion's den before he hadn't been the least better anxious, fearful or concerned. But now, as he seated his partner in a booth and went to the bar to collect himself and ostensibly to order drinks; he watched the eyes of other men – and some women - notice HIS partner. Before he could get two drinks, one Dewar's double and a tonic water with lime (for her) and make it back to the table she was being circled like a bleeding swimmer in deep water by very big sharks.

He was prepared for wildness from her, but not the feeling in himself at the attention others paid her. He hadn't felt the fire of jealousy in many years. He breathed deeply and downed the scotch. He touched the cocktail waitress by the elbow, setting his empty on her tray and demanding another. He waded through the dance floor towards their booth where Dani was already engaged in a conversation with a young Russian girl.

The girl was tall, thin, almost reedy; completely unlike his partner with her dark eyes and luscious curves. The girl was perhaps twenty-five with straight blonde hair, long legs and almost no curves. She was far too boyish to have attracted his attention, but Dani and she seemed to have struck a conversation so he imagined he'd have to participate. He slid into the booth and extended his hand, "I'm Charlie."

"Dance with us," the girl demanded in a brusque tone. She had Dani by the hand and Reese was not about to be drawn away from him, she clasped his hand and pulled him with her.

"Be cool," Dani whispered.

He was anything but. As both women began to twist and whirl to the backbeat and deep bass, he felt his world tilting and swimming. This was worse than being drugged.

Once they were on the dance floor, the light dimmed and the music changed. Strobe lights made it hard to track movement and he basically stood on the dance floor while Dani and the Russian girl danced around him. Their hands would from time to time wander across his body in interesting ways.

The song changed again and the intro was slower and softer. The Russian girl stroked the edge of Dani's cheek and then leaned in and kissed her. Charlie froze. He'd been jealous of men before, never of a woman. This night was not turning out the way he expected.

A sudden flash of light surprised him and he pulled Dani away from the girl. She bounced against his chest and her dark eyes and lean smile where his undoing. He locked her in a searing kiss right there on the dance floor. There were undercover cops in the bar providing eyes on him and no one missed what he'd done. This was not close to the line; he'd blown right past it.

Even Reese was shocked, but after a moment, he felt her enjoy herself. She was turned on. Her hands traveled under his coat and up his back to his shoulder blades. He crushed her body against him and deepened the kiss. They got lost; the girl disappeared, the club disappeared, the world disappeared….

"We are in so much trouble," she whispered huskily against his throat when lack of oxygen forced them apart.

"I see what you mean," the Russian girl talked over Dani's shoulder, but Crews could hear her. The Russian put her hands on Dani's hips and they gyrated suggestively in synch.

"Don't do that again," he warned her in a low tone.

"You don't like that girl kissing me," she questioned.

He shook his head no.

"That's kind of the idea, Charlie," she teased and reached back. The young Russian's hand was in Dani's instantly. "You want to learn new things right?"

Crews lost the power of speech as the Russian girl put her hands on Dani in ways that he'd only imagined. They were standing on the dance floor in full view of about a half dozen cops and he couldn't move. He was rooted to the spot.

He did the only thing he could to seize back control. He roughly grabbed the Russian girl and kissed her fiercely. It was not satisfying, but it changed the situation enough that Dani was taken aback.

"Introduce me to your friend," he demanded.

* * *

Tidwell was sitting in his house, drinking a cheap whiskey. He's long ago given up any notion of propriety and was drinking straight from the bottle. In his lap was the transcript of the surveillance at Ritual. He had it folded open to the only part that mattered to him.

_Detective Crews: "Umm, I'm in trouble here. Feeling something I haven't felt in a long time." _

_Unidentified Woman: "Me too, baby. Let's get out of here. How about you take me somewhere nice. I'll make you feel better. I'll make you feel all kinda things." _

_Detective Crews: "My girl's not gonna like that." _

_Unidentified Woman: "Come' on honey."_

_Detective Reese: "Hey, get your hands off him."_

_Unidentified Woman: "And just what are you supposed to be?"_

_Detective Reese: "Let go of him," (sound of a slap). "We're leaving here now. Get up Charlie," (rustling). Hold on to me." _

_Detective Crews: "Reese, I don't feel so good. Actually… I feel way better than I should." _

_Detective Reese: "I know. Just hang on to me and I'll get you out of here."_

_Detective Crews: "You feel good too." _

_Detective Reese: "Great, ecstasy."_

_Detective Crews: "Exactly." _

_Detective Reese: "Shut up. When I get you home, I am going to wear you out."_

_Detective Crews: "Are you mad at me?"_

_Detective Reese: "Just concentrate on getting home. Stop leaning on me. You're heavy." [whispered] "And watch where you put your hands." _

_Detective Crews: "Wait….did you just say? Are you coming home with me?"_

_Detective Reese: "Crews, the wire." (Pause then rustling) "Crews, help me out here."_

_Detective Crews: "Aren't we gonna wait til we get home?" _

_Detective Reese: "What are you doing? Take this off." _

_Detective Crews: "We'd have more room at my place. The things I want to do to…"_

_Detective Reese: "Shut up." [Cell phone buzzing] "Jesus Christ," _

_Detective Crews: "You gonna get that?" _

_Detective Reese: "It's Spagnetti. Remember? From Vice?" _

_Detective Crews: "Oh!" [Wire terminates]_

He read it over and over again as Dani's voice echoed in his brain. _"That's what you're asking isn't it? If I'm fucking my partner._ _That is none of your business, Captain."_

"You don't answer that question – that way - unless you are fucking your partner," he shouted at no one in particular. He wanted to throw something, but not the bottle of whiskey he needed that.

His cell phone rang, his work phone. He groaned but answered it anyway.

It was Spagnetti from Vice. "Captain," the man couldn't have sounded more pleased if he'd found a trunk full of money on a deserted beach. "You should get down here. Detective Crews just stuck his tongue down Detective Reese's throat in front of about four of my Detectives."

"Shit," Tidwell swore. He wasn't aware he'd said out loud until Spagnetti echoed his sentiment.

"You're telling me," the Vice cop agreed. "Oh…and Captain? Crews sucker punched me earlier this evening for something I said about Detective Reese. Guess I know why now," he ended chuckling.

"Where are you set up?" Tidwell asked.

Spagnetti gave him the street address. Tidwell punched it into his phone and hit navigate. "I'll be there in twenty minute," he advised hanging up. "Tidwell just needs to drink a gallon of coffee and chase it with mouthwash first," he said to himself.

* * *

The girls' name was a Natalie. Not far from Natasha. She'd known Reese from the moment they walked in. Natalie had seen Reese in Roman's basement. She'd made her knowledge known, but Dani was cagey and street smart. She didn't spend four years working undercover dope just to be flushed by the first punk who called her 5-0.

She slyly smiled and then told the girl how Charlie had killed Roman to get her back. She bragged about how possessive Charlie was and then damned if he didn't just prove her point. Vice couldn't hear her conversation as only Crews was mic'd up and he was quickly getting them into trouble – so much trouble.

He was so impulsive tonight that she was going to have a hard time explaining this to anyone. His aggressiveness was out of character for the usually unflappable and totally in control man she knew. She was quickly learning there were doors in Charlie Crews' house she'd never seen behind, rooms she'd never been in. She was also finding that there were places she wanted to explore.

"You want only the dark girl?" she asked Charlie.

He nodded. He'd become almost monosyllabic since the dance floor. His grip on Dani was strong and his message clear – _this is mine_.

"She looks Roma," Natalie noted. "Uh…gypsy you Americans say."

"She's Persian," Charlie corrected her. Dani was impressed he'd remembered and bothered to make any distinction, "and she's off limits for you." His warning was clear and just to emphasize his point he smiled, but it appeared more like a snarl.

"She likes me – your gypsy," Natalie bragged and she leaned in close, sweeping Dani's hair off her neck and kissing her there. Charlie tightened his grip on Dani.

"Ow," she complained. He loosened his grip but his expression did not ease.

"Natalie?" Dani pushed her away. "Is there somewhere we can go? Somewhere less public?"

"You want to go to one of the private rooms?"

Dani nodded and elbowed Crews. "Sure," he replied coolly.

'That will cost you two hundred," Natalie said smoothly while examining her nails.

"For the room? And how much for you to join us?" Dani inquired coyly. She could have sworn she heard Crews growl. He was not at all comfortable with sharing. This was an interesting revelation about her Zen warrior.

She turned in his arms and leaned very close. Her hands were on his thighs and her lip right next to his ear. "Remember that we have to get her to commit to a sex act for money and then we can go home," she urged.

He covered her hands with his and held her in place as he whispered a warning.

"Don't you ever do this to me again," his tone was so low she almost missed what he said, but when she drew back there was no mistaking the look in his eyes. He was angry, jealous, conflicted and very excited. His eyes were an electric blue and his countenance very fierce.

"Nyet," Natalie refused. "This one killed Roman. He is too dangerous for me." After a moment, Natalie added something telling, "He is too dangerous for you too."

"I can handle him," Dani tried to smooth things over and get Natalie to commit. "You'll be safe with us."

"Will I?" she asked Crews.

"No," Charlie answered honestly.

"What you said about this one," Natalie began, "I didn't believe you. He looks so…"

"He's not," Dani warned. "Perhaps you know someone else. Someone who is braver than you," she teased.

"You want Katarina," Natalie said. She motioned with her head to a tall, dark girl across the way. The girl was sitting in an Italian man's lap and her eyes connected with Dani's. "She will leave this man for you," Natalie pronounced. "She likes gypsies and the darkness."

Natalie slid out of the booth and made her way to Katarina. She quickly spoke to the other girl and then supplanted her in the Italian's lap. He didn't care who was there; he just wanted a girl, any girl.

"Come with me," Charlie demanded pulling Reese with him into an alcove. He opened a fire door into a hallway and questioned her angrily. "What the hell are you doing?"

"My job," she replied and smiled. "Do yours."

He twisted his head and looked at her as if trying to decide if she was serious or simply toying with him. She turned to leave, but he pulled her back. He looked straight into her eyes and through her façade. She melted; it showed in her eyes and plainly on her face. He pinned her to the wall and kissed her fervently. His enthusiasm wasn't for show; it was for her.

No words were spoken; there were too many ears were listening. He'd acted stupidly, impulsively, but also in a way that could not be misconstrued. First in the punch he threw, but then unmistakably on the dance floor. To be desired that greatly was pretty common for her, men desired her physically almost all her adult life. But with Crews it was more, it was deeper, it was clear and cutting and beautiful. She didn't trust herself to speak, but as they broke, she pulled him back in and returned his passion.

They were both careful not to make a sound that would give them away to those listening, but in truth that genie was out of the bottle and there was no putting it back. They'd opened Pandora's box right there on the dance floor in Ritual. Dani couldn't help but think that Roman – were he to still be among the living – would be laughing.


	5. Chapter 5

They returned to the club and assumed their roles sliding in the booth that Charlie was paying handsomely to keep as his own. He dropped a hundred on the cocktail waitress' tray and demanded two more Dewars doubles. The waitress made haste and in little time two drinks appeared. One drink was supposed to sit in front of Reese for show, but it proved too much of a distraction for her. So after the third time her hand strayed to brush the glass of amber death – Charlie simply lifted it to his lips and drank it in one swallow.

She looked at him oddly, but his smile was sly and sexy. He'd had one too many drinks this evening and he was feeling good again, feeling in control. It was Dani's turn to be turned on and tempted. She licked her lips and Crews bent close and kissed her softly. She could taste the scotch on his lips and in his mouth as her tongue licked the opening and their kiss deepened. They were playing with fire while bathed in gasoline. He pulled her under him and slid his hands up her thighs. The texture of patterned stockings was not anywhere as pleasing as her skin, but he knew that she'd enjoy the gesture and attention.

When they broke, Katarina stood there admiring them. "You want her badly," she stated. "So badly you haven't looked at another woman all night," the girl observed.

Charlie nodded mutely.

"Perhaps she wishes for more," Katarina teased and looked at Dani.

Dani nodded and extended her hand inviting the girl to join them.

"First," Katarina dictated. "I kiss him," she motioned to Crews.

Dani felt the rise of something dangerously like jealousy in her breast. It was an odd, uncomfortable feeling like a knife between her ribs and the sting of a deep wound.

Katarina slid into the booth beside Crews. "Release the girl," she ordered. "If you wish to bed Katarina then you must be all here," she gestured to herself.

Two could play at Reese's game, he realized as Charlie disentangled himself from Reese and took the dark Russian in his arms. He felt the heat from Dani's body increase and he smiled devilishly at her, before descending to feed upon the mouth of the other woman.

Reese had to sit there and watch as her partner devoured the girl's breath, moved to her neck and at the Russian's prompting, put his hand on her breast and fondle it. Beads of sweat from the tonic water made a ring around her glass, she focused on the table and those little stains of water as Crews and the Russian girl made out forcing her jealousy into the dark recesses of her mind. It only worked for so long.

She picked up Crews' scotch and played with the glass, rolling the amber liquid around the glass. This was not good for her.

"Okay, enough already," she growled pulling her man away from the dark Russian.

He licked his lips and looked at her hungrily. "I'm not enjoying this," he lied.

Katarina leaned across Charlie's lap and stroked Dani's cheek. "Kiss me like you want to kiss him," she taunted Reese.

Charlie didn't think she'd do it, but she did. Then two women were kissing practically in his lap and suddenly someone's hands were moving to unbuckle his belt and things were sliding out of control.

"Hey," he pushed Katarina back and reached for Reese. "Remember why where here…we've got plans," he reminded her. "I'd like to finish this early and then do what comes next," he used innuendo to persuade his partner that this was not the way to go.

"Yeah?" she questioned pulling on his tie. "What would you like to do next?"

"I'd like to take you…" His jealous little brunette kissing him fiercely swallowed the rest of his promise. At one point she bit his lip rather savagely and then reversed to soothe his bruised mouth with gentle pecks, before encouraging him further by pivoting and settling astride him in the booth. His hands moved without thought, up her thighs and under her short skirt. Her firm ass in his hands, he pulled her tightly against him and they battled for control – only part of their duel was for show.

When they broke, Katarina was convinced, as was about half the bar, that they were ready to have sex right there on the itty-bitty table in that semi-private booth. But the foray into taboo netted them their quarry.

Katarina, as it turned out, was quite dark and twisted. She was up for whatever these clients wanted. She was also just reckless enough to say what that would cost on the wire, giving Vice adequate cause to shut Ritual down for prostitution and pandering, which was an archaic way of expressing that they'd engage in sex acts for money. They made the agreement and Crews slid money to her under the table, just before ten cops in uniform came bursting through the door guns drawn in raid jackets and bulletproof vests.

Katarina made to leave and Dani grabbed her by the arm, "not so fast."

"You are police?" The Russian girl asked.

"Yes," Charlie gave her a mean serious smile.

"You – I know," the girl advised. "But her? She does not kiss like police."

"I kiss like police?" Charlie asked innocently.

"You totally kiss like police," Bobby Stark kidded. He was on the raid team, of course he was. "Wow, Detective Reese," he leered. "You sure clean up nice."

There was a degree of lecherousness in Stark's tone that Charlie really didn't care for and coming on the heels of Spagnetti's comment earlier something in Crews became confused bordering on angry.

"You'll want to be careful what you say now, Bobby," Charlie warned darkly.

Stark looked at him and for a moment could not tell if Crews was kidding or not.

"Uh….sure thing Charlie," Stark stumbled over the words. "Sorry there…" he began to apologize but Reese was not having any of it.

"Just shut up," she barked.

"Let's go home," Charlie lowered his head and suggested to his partner.

"First, let's get that wire off you buddy," a tall clean-cut techie, wearing a headset and listening along, suggested.

"Uh….yeah," Crews agreed. "I just need to get this…" he began unbuttoning his shirt.

"I'll do it," Reese offered in a growl. "Bathroom, now," she ordered.

She shoved him roughly into the bathroom as the police were now everywhere. A sea of navy and body armor now flooded the club. The bathroom was only private from other eyes; their conversation could still be heard on the active wire.

"Reese…I…" he began.

She covered his mouth with one hand and began unbuttoning his shirt with the other. When it became clear he knew not to speak, she used both hands. She unceremoniously ripped the antenna from his chest, resulting in a muffled yelp from Crews. She gave him a dark look, bent to kiss his chest and then switched the transmitter off. They both exhaled audibly.

"Never….ever….volunteer for a vice assignment again," she insisted.

"I promise," he said carefully adding his own demand, "if you promise that you'll never kiss another woman again."

"You mean….in front of you?" she clarified teasing.

"No," he answered quickly and his eagerness showed. "Come to think of it I don't think I'd want you kissing any men either."

"In front of you?" she repeated again smiling.

"No," he said. His answer rumbled from deep in his chest. His dissatisfaction at the concept of anyone else having her but him simply wouldn't abide another mutual foray into sex. He meant to have him all to himself. "I mean – at all – ever."

"Hmmm…..possessive. I told her you were. You know, that's so not Zen," she announced. "I don't think I can be with you if you're not Zen," she turned on her heel and walked out. She was toying this him and she was enjoying it.

He growled and followed her back into the club.

* * *

Tidwell was in the club and motioned for them. "You two have really crossed the line this time. This….this…" he was angry, jealous, disgusted and yet in front of twenty other cops, "whatever this act was…. You're both suspended," he decided impulsively.

"We're suspended?" Dani asked angrily for confirmation.

Tidwell nodded vigorously, but was less sure when Dani was angry with him.

"We were doing our job," she argued, "getting you evidence to shut this place down. You have no grounds to suspend us."

Tidwell seemed to consider Dani's challenge before playing his trump card. "Detective Sergeant Spagnetti says you hit him Crews. That right?" He said the words looking directly at Dani, but pivoted his head at the end to stare into Crews' face.

"Don't answer that," Dani ordered while Crews simultaneously denied it.

"I did not," Crews lied. After a moment he added an excuse, "I was helping him adjust his tie."

"He's not wearing a tie," Tidwell glowered.

"Well," Crews smiled blithely, "that must have been the problem then."

"Fine," Dani seemed to decide at that moment that she was through with being bullied. "Come on Crews," Dani dragged her tall partner by his hand. "If we're suspended; then I know where I'm going," she announced loudly, "Home - to get laid."

Crews was smiling like the cat who swallowed the canary as she dragged him past a dozen cops. His voice was low and just for her as they exited the club into the humid LA night. "Home - to my home? Or would you rather go to yours? You did mean me right?" It was his turn to toy with her.

"How about I bail that Russian girl out and take her home?" Dani taunted as they hit the alley where cars were parked.

Crews pressed her against the wall opposite the valet stand and handed the boy his ticket. "Never say that again," he snarled. "You're making me angry," he tried to intimidate her.

"That supposed to scare me?" she mocked him.

He gave her his best dark glare. It didn't penetrate very far.

She smiled sweetly at him and pulled him to her by the lapels of his jacket. "You are madly, hopelessly, seriously in love with me. Not only would you never hurt me, you would never allow me to be hurt, so give up the tough guy act and admit I own you," she whispered against his lips.

His breath came in ragged gasps as she laid him bare in the glow of a pink street lamp. He could hear the car approaching and nothing else.

"Tell me I'm wrong," she dared him.

He kissed her breathless. "You're not wrong," he admitted. The valet shifted anxiously behind them waiting for his tip.

"Good. I'd hate to think you were this good at pretending everything," she teased as she pushed him away and walked past him to the waiting car.

His next comment would cut her to her very soul. It sliced through the years of scar tissue and walls she'd built to keep the world at bay and tore at her heart in ways she didn't realize simple words could.

His voice was dull, quiet sound, "I never had to pretend love inside." It was a thought; never meant for ears. He wasn't even conscious that he'd said it; it just bubbled quietly from his lips. His words stopped her in her tracks, she turned and faced him and it was then that he realized his thoughts were spoken. "I'm sorry," he turned ashen and pale.

"Get in this car," she directed. "Take the quickest way you know to your house. I'm going to show what you missed while you were away," she purred in an alluring tone.

He sat behind the seat and then attempted to correct what he understood her to mean. "I've been with women since prison," he stammered. "Quite a few women actually."

"Not like me," she corrected.

"None like you," he agreed. "There is no one like you."


	6. Chapter 6

"We're suspended," he stated the obvious. "And you bit me," he added looking a bluish purple mark in the shape of her mouth on his shoulder. Their lovemaking had taken a wild and uncontrolled turn the night before courtesy of the many taboos they'd crushed inside Ritual on an undercover mission.

They were naked in bed. Because it was Crews, there was fruit. _Why wouldn't there be? _Dani wondered. He was peeling an orange, the crisp scent of orange taking her back to that dusty day in his orange grove. The day when the sun shone not only on her, but also in her, lighting all the dead paper crowding her heart on fire and turning it to ash. The orange peel lay on his chest until she took it off him and gently placed it on the nightstand.

"When you finish peeling that thing," she kissed his sticky fingers one by one, "you're gonna put your mouth to better use and orange peel is not something I want in my bed."

Her tongue curled around his finger, she closed her mouth and sucked. She teased him with the power of her mouth again eliciting a groan from deep within him. He almost forgot the orange; he almost forgot what an orange was. She relented and released his hand, but her eyes never left his.

After a moment continued peeling and commented, "Your bed? And you still haven't apologized for biting me," he added.

"Yes." Her dark eyes narrowed and became inscrutable. She hadn't apologized nor was she likely to. She marked her property like a lioness with teeth and claws. It was clear he was that to her now; it wasn't clear how she felt about the fact. She switched topics pulling on a thread of his earlier comment. "We're suspended."

He excitedly engaged her with an idea that had been simmering in his mind all morning. "I wanna take you somewhere," he offered.

"We are somewhere," she parried using his Zen against him. She smiled.

"Somewhere else, some place exotic with drinks with little umbrellas in them."

"Most people who are suspended sweat it," she observed. "I think that's the point."

"We're not most people," he replied pointedly.

"Where?" She inquired patently accepting his premise. They were not normal, not average, not common; both had endured loss and soul shaking tests of character. They'd come through them, but not unscathed. Both bore deep scars and a reckless fearlessness.

"Tibet?" he suggested.

"Hawaii?" she countered.

"Tahiti?" he gave an alternative that he liked better.

"I don't have a passport," she rebuffed.

"Get one," he demanded. "There's a rush service. I want to leave the US."

"Why?" she wondered.

"Because as a convict or an ex-con on parole I can't….I couldn't, which I really need to tell Ted," he explained, "later. I'll tell him later," he decided as he spoke the thought aloud. It was quintessential Crews.

"Because I can; because I want to," he asserted boldly, "and I want you to come."

"You realize that if we run off to Tahiti together no one is going to believe we are not fucking – ever?" she highlighted the only downside to their planned misadventure.

"I don't care what they know, what they think they know or what they imagine," he pulled her close. "So long as you are mine," he kissed her. "You are mine aren't you?"

She seemed to consider his question seriously. "No, Crews….you are mine," she replied cheekily. "I own your ass and don't you forget it," she climbed astride him with purpose. "What do you want me or fruit?"

"I want you," he tossed the orange aside. "You are fruit; firm, sweet and sticky and I just can't get enough of you," he vowed as he flipped them over. He hovered above her his eyes an electric blue. "Come to Tahiti with me. Make love with me under a palm tree. I'll feed you dates and shower you with fresh flowers."

Her eyes showed surprise and he knew he'd hit a nerve with his impulsive offer. He waited for her to absorb what he was offering.

"Uh…yeah," she responded, "sure, okay." She seemed dazed and not fully there.

He waited again for her to speak the words on her mind. He stroked her arms in feather light caresses and softly kissed her neck occasionally while studying her intently. It remained one of his favorite things to do – watching Reese think.

"Charlie," she questioned. While she was absorbed with his motions, and her body remained restive, her mind was still thinking.

He nodded mutely, acknowledging he heard her without engaging in actual speech that might break the gentle spell they were under.

"Do you think we are both acting impulsively? Do you think it's possible that escaping from Roman made both of us stupid and reckless?"

"I think that's possible," he answered honestly. "I also think that stupid and reckless is sometimes just what control freaks like us need to find out what's real in our lives and what's just an illusion."

"Tidwell and I were an illusion." She marveled at her simple yet plain discovery. "I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be safe and sane."

"I'm not any of those things…normal, safe, sane," he advised her. "I may have been once, but I haven't been those things for a very long time."

"That night when you were drugged," she offered. "I knew it from the sound of your voice. Who knows someone's voice that well?"

"Lovers? Partners? Very good friends…" he punctuated each word with a kiss.

"Fuck it," she grinned, "and fuck them. Let's go to Tahiti. When IAD comes looking for us all they'll find is an empty house and a note."

"I am not leaving them a note," he pointedly objected.

_Author's Note: This is a cheesy little update. I can assure you that I am working on a robust update but until then - just a taste of where we are going next._


	7. Chapter 7

To say that Dani Reese was mildly uncomfortable was making light of the terror she actually experienced as they closed the boarding door. Outwardly she kept the appearance of calm, control, but inside her heart was racing. She was dressed casually, in jeans and white tank top with a grey hoodie in her lap for when it got cold, which her mother promised her it would. Dani had never flown internationally so she trusted her mother's advice. Her black blazer was hanging in the tiny closet in front of her, alongside Crews' navy sport coat. Crews was in the washroom and would soon join her in the well-appointed deep blue leather seats in the First Class cabin on the initial leg of their journey to Tahiti.

In the pocket of her jacket was a crisp, unbent US Tourist passport without a single stamp marring its colorfully watermarked pages. Dani had never been out of California before and now she was going out of the country to some exotic island with Crews. It seemed a little crazy to her, like running away from home when she was thirteen. That episode had ended badly with an angry Jack Reese dragging her back home in shame. But her father was gone now, dead. She felt free of him and guilty for feeling so good about it. "Good" wasn't the right word; "relieved" was a better word, but it was nice feeling nonetheless. This was a different kind of crazy; it was the kind of crazy that left her with a wild grin on her face and butterflies in her stomach. Twice this morning she'd had to stop herself from smiling so hard it hurt.

* * *

It had taken three weeks to get her passport and in that time IAD had gotten to them and their inquiry. Charlie politely told them to speak to his lawyer, who was no longer Constance Griffiths, but some new equally capable and expensive barrister of name. Dani, for her part, had been harder for IAD to find. They tried her apartment, her mother's house and then only located the dark haired detective accidentally while serving Crews with notice of their intent to seek a more permanent suspension against him.

Charlie had answered the door in shorts with a beach towel slung over his shoulder.

"Detective…" the tow headed man with a crew cut made sure he had the right man.

"I was asked to deliver this to you and to inquire if you knew the whereabouts of your partner, Detective Reese," the man shifted uncomfortably as Crews tore open the letter and read it. For several moments Charlie simply read and when he finished the letter, he folded it neatly and returned it to its envelope.

"Detective," the blonde man questioned.

"I think that's not what you should call me," Charlie advised.

"What should I call you?"

"Just Charlie," he corrected. "Charlie Crews."

"Do you know the whereabouts of Dani Reese?"

"Uh…yeah," Crews responded but made no effort to volunteer her location.

"Will you tell me where Detective Reese is?"

"I think she's in that folder," Charlie offered in his characteristically confusing manner. "I mean didn't you take her shield too? So she's not really Detective Reese anymore is she?"

"Are you trying to be difficult?"

"No," he grinned. "I'm always like this – I don't even have to try."

"Crews," Dani Reese shouted from the doorway of the patio through the kitchen. "Get your ass back in this pool."

The two men exchanged looks; the policeman's was pique and Charlie's amusement.

"Is that Detective Reese?" the cop asked.

"I thought we'd established… it can't be because…" Charlie began and then stopped.

"Yes, it's her, but I don't think she wants to be found, not today."

"I have an envelope for her too," the man tried to push past Crews.

"I'll give it to her," Charlie offered, but blocked the policeman's way.

"Sorry, I have to give it directly to her," he edged to the side.

"Not gonna happen," Crews smiled and showed all his teeth. "No one gets to Dani Reese unless she wants them to, and she's not seeing visitors today."

Something in Crews' eyes glistened like he welcomed the officer to try to get past him and he'd enjoy what followed.

The man wisely retreated. "You'll give this to her?"

"I am nothing if not a man of my word," Crews said coolly.

"So that's a yes?" the blonde man was as slow witted as he was pretty.

"That's a yes," Crews grew tired of verbal fencing against a man with such an obvious handicap. "I will ensure Detective….Ms. Reese gets the envelope. Is there anything else?"

The man shifted uncomfortably. "Uh…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm supposed to wait for a reply."

"You can wait in your car," Crews motioned towards the drive.

He closed his front door and for good measure locked it. He peered out the glass pane and watched the blonde man mill about for a moment, then walk to his car and climb into it. He waited several more moments until the LA sun and heat drove the man to start the car and turn on the A/C. Charlie quietly padded through the kitchen to the patio where Reese had returned to sun herself on the deck.

She knew the man was there and she'd not inquired, not pressed or pursued. This meant she did not wish to speak with him or to be spoken to about him. He simply laid the envelope on the short table beside her and took a position in a reclining deck chair alongside her. He let out a long heavy sigh and then put his sunglasses back on.

"We're not gonna talk about what just happened?" she wondered.

"Did you wanna talk about it?"

"No, I don't think I do," she smiled in understanding. Charlie Crews could ignore almost anyone or anything. It was a talent she envied but was learning.

"Don't wanna know what's in that envelope?" he teased. "It's not killing you not knowing?"

"I'm embracing not knowing what I don't know," she batted a bit of Zen back at him cheekily.

"You know…" he teased, "you keep this up and you're going to become Zen by accident."

"Is that even possible?" Dani inquired with equal degrees of playfulness and contempt in her voice. She approached Charlie's Zen rubbing off on her like she would catching the measles, but she remained buoyed by his presence and his instinct to guard her. He was her safety net and she his; it made them both bold.

He grinned slyly but did not answer. The envelope lay there all afternoon. He retrieved it that evening as the sunset and placed it on the island in the kitchen. They went to bed that night and it remained a lonely piece of unwanted information lying in the cool darkness of the night. By then the crew cut man had long since given up hope of a reply and departed leaving nothing behind but a slick spot on the driveway in his wake.


	8. Chapter 8

Crews taking the seat beside her and smiling brightly at her, returned her to the present. The stewardess offered a bright array of liquid refreshments: orange juice, champagne and mimosas. Charlie expertly lifted two orange juices in wine glasses from the tray without discussion or hesitation. He didn't even consider drinking in front of her, much less without her. It wasn't a sacrifice for him; he just let it go unlike Tidwell who fought his desire to drink versus his devotion to her.

She looked out the window as they shut the boarding door and the aircraft pushed back from the gate. She tensed. This was new, unknown and mildly daunting; rushing off to the tropics with her partner. But they weren't new, not anymore. They were a couple now. He reached across and took her free hand. She didn't miss that he was trying to reassure her. Her soft smile waned as the engines revd up. Charlie slid sideways in his seat to capture her lips with a soft kiss. It surprised her and his energy coupled with the hurtling power of the plane launching took her breath away. When they broke, they were airborne. He lifted his head toward the window and her gaze followed his. LA fell away beneath them.

They were lighter, freer and somehow still grounded. She looked down at their linked hands and realized Crews was the only link she needed. She relaxed and began to question him about their suspension vacation. "What exactly are you going to do all day in Tahiti when you fry to a crisp in the sun here in ten minutes?"

He shrugged, but offered options. "Find an umbrella, drink juice, find new fruits, watch you," he grinned broadly as the last idea occurred to him.

"Watch me what?"

"Swim, lay by the pool, sleep…" he volunteered. "I never get tired of watching you."

She skinned up her nose at his comment. "That's slightly stalker-ish Crews."

"Would you rather I look at someone else?" he teased.

She considered his question, held his eyes and answered. "Uh…no, I don't think so."

"Then I'll wear dark glasses and be casual," he smiled mischievously.

"Like surveillance?" she wondered.

"No," he leaned close and whispered in her ear. "I don't watch anyone we surveill the way I do you," he confessed.

"How long have you been watching me like that?"

At this he became uncharacteristically shy, quiet and blushed furiously. She waited knowing he would tell her. Moments passed. His eyes flitted to her face, then away twice. He seemed to settle on an answer, a truth she didn't know and weighed the danger of sharing it. The other option was not saying and both were equally perilous.

"Since that day with Lonnie Garth in the crack house," he admitted.

"That long?" she remarked. "The shower?"

He nodded.

"Then why didn't you say something? Do something? Why did we wait so long? Why did one…no, both of us… nearly have to die before we got it together?"

He shrugged again, but no confession was forthcoming this time. Perhaps he really didn't know. She often assumed that because of Charlie's age and experience he had a better handle on things, particularly his emotions than she did. She was quickly learning that while the concept of controlling one's emotions was noble, it was nearly impossible to achieve for long.

"Did you stay away to keep me from the dangers of your private vendetta against the department?"

"Didn't work did it?" his comment was dry and biting.

"Still learning that huh?"

He returned a quizzical stare.

"That for all you've learned to control; there's still so much you can't hope to hold onto, buy or manipulate," she commented presciently.

"Is that what you think I do?"

"I think I started dating Tidwell because of you," she offered. "Not because of you, but because of you – but because you thought it'd be a good idea."

He shrugged again and offered no comment. The man could be as communicative as a brick when he wanted to be.

"How else would Tidwell know about the goldfish? You told him didn't you?"

"I told him," Charlie confessed. "It took him two tries to get that done. The first night was when you walked out on him."

They reached cruising altitude and the seatbelt light went off. Dani reached for her carry on and unraveled her headphones from her iPod. Charlie reclined his seat and put his footrest out. He helped Dani adjust hers and then clasped her hand again. He sighed softly and closed his eyes.

"Two weeks alone," he murmured. "Alone with you."

"I'm not sure you can be alone together," she teased.

"Haven't we always been alone together?" His question was complex and multifaceted and in itself both an answer and a deep truth. As often happened with Crews he'd introduced a statement of fact as a question. At first this annoyed her, now she found it more palatable. It gave her time to ask herself the question and arrive at her own answer. He was often more thoughtful and intelligent than most people thought and he wasn't crazy – not at all, not one little bit.

She considered perhaps they always had been "together"; long before they were together in the traditional sense. So many people assumed they were a couple. She'd worked with plenty of men before and occasionally they'd been mistaken as related or a couple, but not with the regularity she and Crews were. She considered if she treated him differently than she did others. Of course, she did, she always had.

That was when her internal questioning began. _Exactly how long have I had a thing for Charlie Crews? _She wondered critically. He, of course, was dozing. His eyes were closed behind his shades as sunlight filtered across them. He squeezed her hand without ever opening them. He felt her unease and her struggle. He was gently there, supportive, questioning, but stable, protective and comfortable.

This would be an interesting two weeks. This wasn't like running off to Baja with a boyfriend in college, coming back with a hangover, sunburned and with a new tattoo. Charlie Crews was about to brand his name on her heart and it was a scar that would never heal.


	9. Chapter 9

Their "cabana" was in reality, a three-room suite, built over a crystal blue lagoon with a white sand bottom. She watched nameless schools of tangs and triggerfish drift by as the porter settled their luggage. Charlie announced he was taking a shower and when she heard the water begin to run she opened a window and lay down on the large bed. The crisp white sheets felt cool, as did the sea breeze as she listened to the sea birds overhead and the lapping of the ocean against the pillars of their temporary home. She became lost in the sound of the sea and the air currents bringing the familiar yet exotic odor of a new ocean to her brain.

When she looked up Charlie was silently leaning against a wall watching her. He wore only a white towel wrapped around his slim waist. His hair was still wet and spiky. A smattering of reddish chest hair trailed down his torso to points lower. Just looking at him like this made her pulse quicken. He seemed to know it. He regarded her silently and smiled softly as she noticed him doing what he professed to enjoy "watching her."

"Get over here," she demanded in a low tone, "and lose the towel."

He approached her slowly, his bare feet shuffling on the tile floors. He climbed onto the bed and pressed himself against her. His kiss was light, but insistent. She reached for the towel but he stilled her hands. He just kissed her, but it was with purpose and direction. His exploration became deeper and more fervent. He picked up the pace and increased the heat, but continued to take his time. His efforts were both measured and deliberate, unlike the fierce spontaneous events of the first week – here he was the master of control and he loved to wind Dani up to the point she was screaming for them to link bodies, breaths and movements.

They were quickly racing out of control, but unlike the week prior they were not frantic. There was no biting, nor scratching, no bruises, hickey or other emblems of fierce coupling. This time they took their time. He wound his hands into her hair and slowly undressed her. His hot mouth immediately covered each naked spot and he paid delicious attention to every inch of her. Dani was on fire, but it didn't burn. It felt like she'd been struck by lightning and turned into molten glass.

He pulled away and his face was flushed, hair tousled and eyes a deep luminous blue. "I love you," he said simply. "I think maybe I've always loved you – I just can't explain how or why….you…" he stumbled over his strong sentiment.

"Charlie," she called him back to his task, to her with his name spoken gently from her lips. "Just kiss me," she demanded, but it sounded more like a plea.

He happily obliged capturing her lips in a series of infuriating and exhilarating taunts and retreats. Just as she'd reached for him; he'd retreat leaving her breathless and wanting. Just when she thought she could not endure anymore, he pressed onto her fully, lining their bodies up for business and kissed her deeply. He drew all her breath away and still he did not relent. She lost track of time, of the place and conscious thought fled. She was propelled simply by need, by want, by longing for him. Many times in her past she could recall wanting sex, but this was the first time only Charlie Crews would do. No nameless substitutes would be accepted.

At long last the towel worked loose and she was able to explore the entirety of his backside, from his taunt obliques to his toned butt. He groaned as she reached lower and his pace became more rapid.

"Dani," he began attempting to regain control and slow their pace. .

"God, Charlie," she chastised him breathlessly. "I need you now, right now." The want in her voice surprised her. It sounded like someone else. "Please, I…" she paused as he laved her neck and left a trail of tears along her collarbone distracting her. "….love you," came out in a heated sigh. She wasn't even aware she'd said it, but he was. He gave her what she wanted in those moments. He pierced her and set a slow rhythm that threatened to break them both.

She moaned and growled, but her voice was swallowed by his deep kiss. Their pace increased again. She could no longer hear the waves, but she swore she could feel the earth moving beneath them. A shudder passed through her as an orgasm ripped through her belly, filling her with a sense of peace and blissful exhaustion. She remained coupled to her partner as he reached his climax and collapsed against her.

"Oh, god," she panted.

His reply was a "uh-huh" which had she been capable of higher thought would have elicited a comment or a giggle. Surely, she didn't think she was referring to him. But as it was, she couldn't summon the will to do more than cling to him.

He rolled off and tossed his towel to the floor. He pulled her across his body and they lay that way as sleep took them. This was dangerous, this was serious, this was mind-blowing sex with a man she was sure she was in love with and it just kept getting better. She couldn't imagine simply sitting across their conjoined desks and watching him eat fruit without wanting to kiss his breathless and twist his tie in knots. _How were they ever going to go back to just working together now?_

* * *

He was awake; reading a brochure from the hotel when she rolled over. It was late the day and the sun was setting lighting the sea on fire with its light. He beckoned to her. "Come watch the sun set with me?"

"The sun sets in LA," she argued.

"Not like this," he was patient with her.

Grudgingly she wrapped a sheet around herself and shuffled to the glass door of their private porch. He pulled on the sliding door and the sea breeze welcomed her.

A giant orange orb seemed to dip itself in a sea of blackness. One moment they were standing in the orange glow of waning light and the next they were in inky blackness.

His hands found her and the sheet dropped to the floor. They were naked in the dark as he bent to kiss her. His hands found unerring purchase without the aid of light. He knew his way.

Her stomach growled and his kissing turned to a chuckle. "Hungry?"

"In more ways than you know?" she pulled him down to kiss him hard.

"We should eat," he teased. "Keep your strength up. How about you put something on so you don't start a riot and let me take you to dinner."

As Dani dressed she inquired, "what were you reading earlier?"

"Oh," Charlie grinned. "Couples massages."

"Thought you didn't like other people putting their hands on me?" she teased.

His look was dark, but he smiled at last. "I think I could manage, so long as it's professional." He handed her the brochure and her eyes showed interest.

"First, food," he said as he escorted her to the restaurant.

* * *

The next afternoon they booked a couple's massage at the spa. The room was dim, lit only with candles; it smelled of lavender and sandalwood. The masseurs were both women, small girls with incredibly strong hands. In less than fifteen minutes Dani was nearly asleep. Her relaxation was great as the woman worked her tired legs muscles and then graduated to her shoulders, neck and back.

She must have drifted off, but lips pressed to her shoulder blade woke her.

"Easy," Charlie's voice was in her ear. His hands traveled over her back with oils and purpose. "I've asked the girls to let me finish." He pulled her over gently until she was on her back. He put his hands on her breasts and kneaded gently.

"I don't think that's a part of the body they usually massage," her chuckle was low and enticing.

"No," he confirmed and leaned close to kiss her. "Probably not this either."

They wound around one another and deepened the kiss. He was on the table with her, knees between her legs and hands to either side of her as he lowered his entire body to meet hers. "I'm gonna have to do this more."

"Massage?" she wondered.

"No," he inhaled along her neckline. "Runaway with you," he informed before he kissed her again, deeply and with enthusiasm. His hips ground against hers, his erection pinned between them.

"I think we should finish this elsewhere," she murmured.

He drew back and his eyes were that amazing blue that she knew from when he became seriously aroused. "You want me to stop?"

"I don't want you to stop," she argued her point. "But I need more room, more space, more time, more privacy for the things I'm gonna do to you."

He grinned and disentangled from her.

"Give the girls a very good tip and grab your shorts," she ordered. "Let's get one of those golf carts to give us a lift back to the room."

"In a hurry are we?" he teased.

"Yes," she gasped as he clutched her against his chest. They were still both naked, coated in oils and warm. "God, Charlie," she complained in mock protest as his hands roamed over her backside, "focus. Take me home so we can finish this."

"I hope we never finish this," he vowed as he locked her in searing kiss.

* * *

The rest of the week was a haze of sun drenched beaches, twisted palm trees, white sand and azure blue waters. Mornings there were on the beach for her; while he ran miles on the sandy paths of the island. Then they'd eat fruit and sushi for lunch before retreating from the earth's heat as the sun reached its zenith daily to kindle their own kind of special fusion in the privacy of their bed or sometimes the shower or garden tub.

Each night they'd eat dinner under the flickering light of smoky torches, as fruit bats snatched mosquitoes from the night air overhead. Then they'd walk the sand paths of the island or the deserted beach, hand in hand in the moonlight until he invariably pinned her to the corrugated trunk of a date palm with eager kisses forcing them to hurry home.

She'd drag him back to the cool quiet of their room where they made love in long strokes. Lately, he'd taken to drawing back from her as they moved in concert - to watch her eyes intently. They locked eyes and it was no longer a contest, it was a caress. One or both would end the intense gaze when the need to touch or taste became overwhelming. Dani was past the point of denial. She had fallen hard and fast for her partner. They were absolutely, unequivocally, in love.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: Yes, I could have stopped this last chapter. I could have stopped with the first and many would argue that would have been a better effort, but I no longer write for praise; I write for me and to give life to these rich, complex characters. So if you're still reading - thanks. If you are reviewing - god bless you. And yes, there will be more...much more. If you think I should have stopped at one chapter, then ignore this post entirely :) ~~Surfer_

* * *

They returned home two weeks later to clusters of terse voice mails.

Every one was an angry call full of fury and frustration, except the one from her mother. She and Crews parted with a kiss filled with sweet longing – not as two people who'd spent every waking moment and all their sleeping one's together. She wondered if she was intoxicated with Crews because everything about him; his touch, the way he smelled and tasted, even the sound of his voice, excited her from the tips of her toes to the core of her being.

Dani had him drop her at her place where she showered, refreshed, change clothes and then set off to visit her mother. She wanted to break the news – the part from her captivity with Roman she'd never shared with anyone but Crews and do it gently.

"Hi Mom," she kissed her mother's cheek after knocking softly on the screen door to the carport. Her mother kept the door open for the sunshine and the fresh air, even in the hottest months. It had been a constant source of argument between her parents. Now she was free to do as she wished, so it stayed open. It made Dani smile.

"You are knocking now? You never knocked to come into this house before," Roya Reese chastised her only daughter. "Let me look at you," she held Dani at an arms length and examined her critically.

"Mom," Dani complained in the same way she had through her childhood and teenage year when subjected to parental caution and review. "I'm fine."

"Yes," her mother concluded. "I can see that you are. You are tanned, fit, healthy and dare I say it? You look happy Dani."

Dani hid a grin by ducking her head. Sex with your older, accomplished, partner did wonders for your attitude. She was still having a hard time wrapping her head around what her heart accepted – that she was in love, maybe for the very first time.

"Tell me," her mother insisted as she released Dani from her scrutiny and began making tea. "Where have you been? Since before it was such a secret."

Dani told her mother she was going out of town. She'd mentioned it would be on an airplane, but she'd never shared how far and with whom, until now. "Tahiti," she confessed and then she volunteered the rest to save her mother the trouble of prying it out of her, "with Crews."

Her mother spun and almost dropped the mugs she was carrying. "Dani, you cannot be with that man. Your father would kill you both – him certainly, you probably."

"Mom," she started a conversation that would be hard for them both. "Dad's not coming back."

"He could…" her mother argued. She was already on the edge of tears.

"No, mom," Dani said gently. "He's not coming back. He's gone."

"How do you know? The police have said nothing," Roya objected holding fast to the idea that nothing and no one could best Jack Reese. She still held onto the image of the dashing young man in a navy blue uniform that captured her heart in college, not the hateful, bitter, alcoholic she lived with at the end.

"The man who kidnapped me told me he killed him," Dani was straightforward with the information. Her mother respected directness.

"I'm going to find him, bring him back, so you can bury him, but he's gone Mom."

She held her mother's eyes. The brown of Dani's the color of rich dark coffee, her mother's shades darker and rimmed in the coal of her culture. Roya saw truth there.

The teakettle whistled startling them both. Quietly, Roya poured the tea and took a seat at the kitchen table. Several moments passed, during which tea the awareness of Dani's revelation seeped in steeping like the tea bags until she was ready to accept it.

"Mom?" Dani questioned if it was safe to continue. Her mother nodded and Dani headed into the next difficult part of the reason for her visit. "Is your only objection to Crews that Dad didn't like him?"

"Of course," her mother seemed shocked. "Why should I dislike the boy? He makes my Dani happy."

Dani rolled her eyes. "He's not a boy," she gritted out. "He's a man. A much older man than I've ever dated before and he's... different."

"Dani," her mother scolded, "before you date only boys – surfers, skaters, boys in bands, motorcyclists – this to upset your father- but not men, not nice men. I know little of this Charlie Crews, but he is good to you?"

"Yes, he's good to me," Dani repeated.

"He makes good money, has a good job?" Roya ticked off the list of things that she required of Dani's mate.

"Yes," she answered. "He's my partner at work."

"LAPD does not allow this," Roya told her something Dani already knew. "Your father had many talks about men and women in his squad dating. It is not permitted."

"I know," Dani said pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Will you marry? Leave the police and have this man's children?"

"What?" Dani cringed. "No!"

"I simply ask because if you date men now, I think perhaps you have grown up too."

"I am grown up, but I'm not ready for kids," Dani strenuously objected to the model her mother set forth. "Not nearly ready, I may never be ready."

"Will this Charlie Crews be a good father?"

"Mom," Dani whined.

"Will he?"

"Yes," Dani admitted. "He'd be a great father, okay."

"Good," her mother seemed satisfied. "Now, what does he look like?"

"What?" Dani questioned confused. "What difference does it make…"

"I want to know what my grandchildren will look like," her mother patted her daughter's arm.

Dani glared at her mother and Roya smiled sweetly back. "Tell me. Is he handsome?"

"Yes," Dani admitted through clenched teeth. "Your imaginary grandchildren will look fine."

"Does he have blue eyes?"

"How did you…" Dani wondered in amazement. Perhaps her mother had seen a picture of Charlie somewhere.

"I always liked the men with the blue eyes," her mother winked at her.

"Is he tall and blonde?"

"Tall and red haired," Dani answered now nearly compelled to tell her.

"Do you have photo? Perhaps on your phone?"

"Uh," Dani had to admit she'd snapped a couple shots of Crews in Tahiti. She was mildly embarrassed to confess it, but she pulled her phone out and flipped through the pics to find one that showed Crews. "Here," she handed the phone to her mother.

"He is handsome. The children will be lovely," her mother remarked knowingly.

Dani rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. She took the phone back and stashed it in her pocket. There was no telling what kind of photos she'd run across as Crews had a habit of taking candid shots of her with her own phone when she wasn't looking.

"Are you gonna be okay with this? Dad not coming back?" she clarified because her mother was swooning over the prospect of her phantom grandchildren.

"Your father left me in spirit many years ago. He left in body over a year now," Roya explained. "I have had much time to consider being left alone and I am comfortable with it now. But this is a big house with a big yard…" she hinted.

"You thinking about selling and maybe moving some place smaller with less upkeep?" Dani ventured.

"No," her mother laughed. "I am thinking what a nice place it will be for the children while you are at work."

"Mom," Dani complained. "Would you please stop with the grandkids?"

"Yes, of course, dear," he mother said pouring more tea. Only Dani knew she wouldn't, she'd never stop until Dani delivered the first slobbering toddler to her mother for daycare at Casa de Reese. Her mother was in for a long wait.

* * *

Dani's next stop was work. She went alone to the station – alone, deliberately. Time with her partner had balanced her. She was strong, confident and capable of handling this, she thought. She walked into Tidwell's office dressed in a tropical print dress and simple sandals.

"Well…I can see suspension agrees with you," he said acerbically. "Where the hell have you been? On vacation?"

"Yes," she smiled.

He pushed back from his desk and noted her appearance. It wasn't just the sun. The tan and the red hints in her dark hair were only part of it. Her posture was relaxed and open. Gone was the tense young woman always looking over her shoulder; this Dani was healthy and whole. That was what Crews did for her. Something he could never do.

"Are you in love with him?"

"Yes," she replied. There was no anger or defensiveness in her tone. It was a simple, honest, pleasant answer.

"Dani," he explained. "I can't let you work with him anymore."

"I know," she said patiently. "I won't be back for awhile. I'm taking a break."

"A break?" he asked dazed. "What kind of break? How long a break? I need good Detectives. Our clearance rate is in the toilet…" he rambled.

"Months," she interrupted, "maybe longer…" musing as if the length of her sabbatical was still not decided. "Crews may come back though."

"Fat chance," Tidwell muttered under his breath.

"I think you should let him," she advised. "He's a good detective. He and Seever worked well together."

"He and Seever…" Tidwell repeated. Incredulity crept into his voice, "you….you can't just leave."

"The Department or you?" she asked.

"Either, both," he stammered. "Shit, Dani."

She breathed deeply. "I love him," she repeated. What she'd only confirmed earlier was now an affirmative statement of emotion. The Dani Reese he knew didn't make statements based on emotion; she didn't make statements about emotion. She'd categorically avoided even characterizing their relationship; she'd never even called him by his first name.

"I love him and we can't work together – you won't allow it, the department won't allow it. But he's worked hard to get back here and I can't even remember why I became a cop anymore. So I'm gonna take some time and think about it. I have about 400 hrs of leave saved up. When that's done, either I'll come back or I won't."

"To work or me?" he pled. It was pathetic, but he couldn't help it.

"Tidwell, we are over," she said plainly. "Whatever it was we were doing, it's over. It's been over for awhile."

"Since Roman?"

"Before," she was completely honest with him. "At some point, I think we both realized I missed him more than I did you. He's…he just…we're both broken, but somehow it works with him."

"I know," his head dropped in resignation and defeat.

"Will you let him come back?"

There was resignation in his voice as he delivered the official party line. "He has to serve a two week unpaid leave suspension for striking Sergeant Smartass…" he gave her the punishment's terms. "He's supposed to see a counselor for anger management and you two were to be split up."

"LAPD can't do that," she explained. "Split us up. No one can." She turned on her heel and walked out. She felt fine. No panic, no fear, no second thoughts. She had no idea what she was going to do next, but she no longer feared not knowing.

* * *

"Hey," he looked up from a stack of mail that had accumulated in their absence. He was sorting through it looking confused. "How'd I get this much stuff? I never asked for stuff and yet..." he gestured at the catalogues, flyers and bills

"That's why it's called junk mail, Crews,"

"Where'd you go? I looked up and you were gone."

"Worried?"

"No," he yelped just a hair too soon. Her eyes told him that he didn't sell that answer. "Okay, yes, " he relented.

"That's sweet," she kissed his cheek as she walked by and opened the fridge, "but I just went to my mom's and then work."

"Okaay," he drew the word out in a question.

She grabbed a bottle of OJ and shut the door. She leaned against it, twisted the top off the bottle and met his questioning gaze. "I took a leave of absence."

"What… no," he rose and began to argue.

"Charlie," she stilled him with her hands on his chest. "This is what I want."

"Why?" he asked wincing.

"At the FBI they asked me about my father," she explained, "if he was why I became a cop. The truth is that I don't know. I don't know if I was emulating him or rebelling against him, but he's a large part of why I did what I did. The drinking, the drugs, even this job – were all reactions to my dad."

"What about what Roman said about your father?" he asked cautiously.

"I'd like to have this chapter closed. I think my mom needs to bury him. I think I do too. Would you help me look for him?"

He nodded solemnly. "You realize if was Roman telling the truth. We'd probably be looking for a shallow grave and what we might find will not be pretty."

"Yeah, I know" she sighed. "But if we know, my mom can move on and so can I. But, not knowing…I'll always be afraid he'll come back. That's terrible isn't it?" she winced at her honesty.

"No," he consoled her. "It's not terrible, it's the truth.

They stood there a few moments, just absorbing strength, support and love from one another. Then she pushed back and looked him in the eye. "Hey, invite Seever to dinner. If she's gonna be your partner, she needs to know that you are not…"

"Crazy? Zen? And she's not my partner, you are."

"Available," she supplied her reason. "She needs to know…"

His head twisted to the side as if he didn't understand when she knew he did.

"That you are not available; that you are taken," her smile broadened at his grin.

"Yes," his smile was sure and sound. "Yes, I am."

"Damn straight," she dragged him down to her level and kissed him.

"You are too," he clarified when they broke. "Taken," he explained.

She nodded and a blush crept up her throat. Dani Reese was in love with him. She'd just taken a leave rather than be paired with someone else and she was still sleeping with him. Life just kept getting better and better.

"So…how's mom?" he wondered against her ear.

"My mom," she clarified, "not your mom." She was joking but there was an edge to it.

"Worried she's gonna like me better?" he teased.

Dani walked to the fridge, pulled a soda from it and handed it to him. She might as well warn her partner about what he was in for. "She wants you over for dinner."

"And?"

"How do you know there's more?"

"When you announce to your mother that you're dating a man who spent twelve years in prison there's always an "and"?"

"I didn't tell her that," Dani said frankly. "That's not how I think of you. That's not what I see when I look at you," she mused why it was so easy to see past all that had happened to him. He wasn't an ex-con to her. He was just Charlie.

"But there's something you're not telling me?" he fished hard.

"Yes," she relented. You might as well know. She's busily making over my room into a nursery for some make believe grandchildren. So be ready she's going to ambush you," Dani warned with a flush creeping up her neck. It was embarrassing to say the least to have to warn him when this was all so new for them.

"I've already had a room upstairs made up," he deadpanned. "Hope you like pink."

Dani gulped and paled.

"Relax," he hugged her against him. "Joke, it was a joke."

She pushed back and looked hard at him. "My mother does not joke about grandchildren."

"I'll just tell her I'm ready to do my part," he taunted.

"Great," Dani replied somewhat acerbically, "make ME the bad guy."

"No pressure," Charlie said kissing her softly. "Let's just keep practicing," his hands found their way to her ass. He lifted her easily and placed her on the kitchen counter.

"You know I like kissing you when we're the same height. It's the same, but different," he commented. Kissing killed conversation most of the time, but it was Charlie so occasionally he still talked nonsense only now he only talked it to her.

"Stop talking and start kissing," his partner demanded.

"Yes, ma'am," he saluted with two fingers, smiled and seriously set about his task.


	11. Chapter 11

Detective Charlie Crews returned to work the following week. His desk was undisturbed as was Reese's. Jane Seever anxiously milled around in the coffee and break room waiting for him.

"Detective Crews," she smiled brightly upon noticing him.

"Detective Seever," he smiled back. "You should go ahead. Take the desk. Reese won't be mad," he seemed to know the reason for her anxiety.

"You're sure?"

"Yes," he answered smoothly and surely. "I'm sure. She'd like to know if you'd come to dinner one night – Thursday maybe?"

"At your place?" Seever asked cautiously.

"At our place? Previously, my place, but now also her place," he had trouble wrapping his head around the concept, but arrived where he needed to be albeit via a somewhat circuitous route. It was classic Crews. "Yes, at our place."

"Thursday?" she clarified.

"Uh-huh," he confirmed.

"Um, Seever…." His tone was slightly conspiratorial. "Reese, she's gonna want to talk to you about…working with me and it's so you understand…" he wanted to warn her, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say the words.

She saved him. "She wants me to know that you're HER partner."

He nodded eagerly and grinned at her divining it and saving him the embarrassment of actually having to say it.

"Charlie," she smiled. "I've always known that. Come to think of it, I think most people have always known that - except the two of you."

"Reese is stubborn and I'm a slow learner," he beamed, "but I got it now."

"Good," she grinned. "Let's get to work."

* * *

Dani spent her first full day without Crews visiting her apartment for more clothes. Despite the fact that much of her wardrobe had slowly migrated into Crews gargantuan closet, she stubbornly refused to admit she was living there. She did a load of laundry, sorted her mail and then opened her fridge when hunger gnawed at her stomach. Blank white plastic shelves greeted her. Reality slapped her in the face. She shut the door and considered her epiphany.

"Jesus…I'm living with him."

Then she went to her bedroom, opened her closet and packed a suitcase with the remaining clothes that she wore the most, drove to his house and hung everything up. There….now it was settled. No more standing with one foot in each place, she was solidly and firmly there now.

All that remained was to talk about it and give up paying for a place she didn't live in. It had all happened so fast, but then she realized it had been happening over the past three years – they just both studiously ignored it.

He came home as usual and was relieved Dani was there. For a fraction of a second as he hit the front door, he thought she might not be and it made him profoundly sad. But there she was, making salads for them in his kitchen.

"You didn't have to cook," he said cautiously with joy in his voice.

"I don't think salads count as cooking," she skeptically announced.

But he could smell something grilling; hear something sizzling and seeing smoke rising from a skillet on the stove. She wasn't going to force him to survive on salad alone, but he wasn't going to force the issue or bring attention to it.

"I'll just go change clothes," he vaulted up the stairs to find quite a few more outfits in his closet than when he'd left that morning. The grin on his face was pretty remarkable. He practiced toning it down in the mirror for five minutes before he went down stairs. Better not to seem too eager.

"Thanks for all the new clothes," he joked as he walked past her and kissed her neck. "But I think the pants are gonna be a little short for me."

"They're called 'capri' pants smart ass," she swung at him with the kitchen towel, which he dodged easily. He snagged a beer, shut the door, leaning against it and willed his heart to stop racing. She had moved in and was making herself at home.

He moved to the stove and expertly shook and flipped the grilling meat without a utensil earning him a look of admiration.

"It's ready," she announced, "let's eat."

He dug in quickly and without too much commentary. His appetite was voracious after a long day at work. "You timed that pretty perfectly," he commented when he came up for air.

"Seever called," she noted. "To confirm dinner and let me know you were headed home."

He guzzled a few swallows of a beer and set it down on the table. "I'm really glad you're here…that you decided to stay here…to move…to bring more things here," he stammered over his words. "I want you here, but I thought if I asked you'd say no."

She continued to chew and then answered thoughtfully, "I probably would have said no, if you'd have asked. Then it occurred to me that I've been almost living here already and I should just do it."

"Hope you feel that way when we decide to get married," he pushed.

She glared at him. He gulped, but she relented and gave him a small smile.

"I don't need you OR my mother pushing me," she defended. "This is about all I can handle right now."

"Sure thing," he backed off. "I'll get the dishes," he offered rising.

"When I finish eating," she corrected. "Sit down."

"Sorry," he apologized. "Bad habit, in Crescent City we had to wolf down what we could and it's a habit I haven't been able to break."

"I know," she confided. "I've noticed, but no one is going to take anything from you now. Just sit with me," she coaxed. "Relax, breathe." She reached out her free hand and he took it. He forced himself to breathe deeply and will himself to slow down. His clutch on her hand eased and they sat together as she finished her salad.

"So…did you have any luck today?" He ventured.

"Visited three morgues and no luck," she admitted. "There has got to be an easier way to do this."

"Seever and I queried the entire state for John Does and I've got some leads in other counties I want to check," he advised. "It's not unforeseeable that Roman's reach extended beyond California either."

"Yeah," she admitted. "It's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"More like looking for a needle in a stack of needles," he agreed.

"Wait, what?" Synapses fired and her brain followed a tangent.

When he started to answer, she put her hand over his mouth lightly. She was thinking and didn't need his chatter to distract her. He tolerated it, but he didn't like it when she did this. He'd much rather she think out loud like he did so they could both know what was on her mind.

Instead being annoyed however, he covered her hand with his and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. It was like he'd passed an electric current through her. She stopped what she was doing and returned to him immediately. She recognized his discomfort and filled him in.

"Maybe we've been going about this wrong," she explained. "What if he's not a John Doe dead, he's one that's alive, but unconscious?"

"You mean we should check for victims of a violent assault who lived but are in a coma or are on life support?" He understood her train of thought instantly. "I'll start checking tomorrow."

"Yes, tomorrow," she gazed at him. The reason for her returning had been his simple kiss in the palm of her hand. Never had twelve hours without someone seemed so long. She'd missed him in that short span of time and she was determined to show him how much.

He rose and walked the dishes to the sink, but as soon as he turned the water on, she'd pressed against his backside and slid her hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Think those can wait?" He shut the water off immediately.

"Absolutely," his voice was an octave lower than at dinner and it sent ripples of desire through her. He gently removed her hands and turned. He ran his fingers down her bare arms from shoulder to wrist and bent to kiss her shoulder gently. "I missed you," he whispered. "Less than twelve hours, Dani," he said. He could not know her internal struggle with the same weight. "I'm in serious trouble here."

"You're not alone."

"We are none of us alone," he repeated a snatch of a Zen lesson from his tape. He was trying to will calm, but it was tantamount to holding back a field of stampeding horses. Two weeks with her alone just wasn't enough.

"Come to bed with me, Charlie," she pulled on his hand. He came willingly. He'd follow her anywhere.

They wound up the great marble staircase in the center of his house, but stopped before they reached the top. He pinned her to the wall with a searing kiss. Her hands roamed over him, stripping off the clothes he'd just put on. In minutes, his shirt and hers were on the floor, his jeans were buttoned and unzipped and he tugged at her bra strap willing the contraption to come off.

"Its in the front," she giggled.

"Bikinis don't have these problems," he chuckled, withdrew and found the clasp. "Can't you just wear one of those all the time?"

"Yes," she chided him lightly as she ran her hands down his sides and around the back into his jeans. "God," she arched into him. "How is it possible that I miss you in half a day?"

He groaned and bent to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. She moaned in pleasure and then froze as a small dark haired woman no more than twenty holding a blue backpack appeared in the front door.

"Uncle Charlie?" the girl question.

Charlie spun and hid Reese behind his taller body. "Rachel…" his surprise was apparent, but he knew the girl. Then Dani recognized her as the "friend of the family" he'd introduced in this very same anteroom the day he'd accidentally shot his father.

"Do you know that you can see both of you from the driveway?" There was a mild rebuke in the girl's tone. She was chastising her Uncle and his partner.

"I do now," he cleared his throat.

"Is it okay that I came home?"

"Uh, yeah…sure," Charlie ran a hand through his hair. He was beyond nervous. Currently there was one too many girls in this room for his liking. "Rachel could you uh…give us a minute?"

Rachel smiled knowingly. "Sure. Hi Dani." She let them know she knew who was hidden behind him. Rachel was mildly amused at the two of them hiding like busted teenagers.

Crews felt Dani's head hit his back right between his shoulder blades several times. "Hi," she said shyly. He was about to bend over to fetch her shirt, until her terse tone and arms wrapped across his chest reminded him, "don't move."

Rachel moved off into the kitchen and Dani sprinted up stairs holding her hands over her exposed breasts. He grabbed all the clothes he could find and followed.

Once inside the room he expected an angry woman, but what he found surprised him. Dani Reese was laughing. At first silently, holding it in, then at his bewildered and befuddled look her laughter burst forth like a spring. He felt his smile spread and an emotion he hadn't felt in awhile filled his heart – it was joy.

Dani collapsed on the bed and tears ran from the corners of her eyes. She laughed so hard she could barely breath. "We just got busted out by a teenager."

"We could be arrested for public indecency from the sound of it," he smiled.

"Turn off the lights," she teased. "And leave those clothes – if I have to share you with Rachel, Seever and my mother, I'm gonna make you remember me." She pushed him against the closed door and hit the light switch plunging them into darkness.

"Rachel's in the kitchen," he meekly tried to resist.

"Rachel can keep waiting. She's almost an adult, she knows what's going on in here," her voice was husky and full of desire. She kissed him hard. Her kiss made him feverish, she was in his blood and all the walls he'd built to keep the world at bay were mere mists to her. She brushed them aside like cobwebs and walked through the doorways of his soul until she held his heart in her hands.


	12. Chapter 12

Two devoted weeks of searching by both intrepid detectives with a little help from Jane Seever, located a man matching Jack Reese's description just across the Nevada border in Reno. It was an hour from Lake Tahoe where her family used to vacation when Dani was a child.

"My dad used to take us to Tahoe when I was a kid," Dani noted absently.

"A lot of people get married in Tahoe," Charlie noted earning him a pointed glare from his partner.

"A lot of people get tanked and lose their fortunes in Reno," Dani noted caustically.

"I skied at Tahoe, during the winter, when I was training for the Olympics," Jane said brightly trying to find some common ground while they prepared dinner. "You know? Cardio?"

Dani raised her brows and Charlie lowered and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Olympics?" Dani clarified. "I thought you had a law degree and did some modeling?"

"It was just a relay," Jane demurred.

"It was just a relay," Crews parroted.

"And you picked me?" Dani inclined her head towards Crews.

He grinned broadly and nodded eagerly. "Someday Seever's gonna be Mayor." Dani was decidedly uncomfortable with the accomplishments of her would be replacement.

"I'm gonna vote for her," Charlie babbled. He did that when he was nervous. Dani first noticed it when she met Constance Griffiths, only that time he was struck speechless.

"Of course you are," Dani bristled at his silliness.

"I'm gonna go get us more drinks," Charlie excused himself. "Pepsi? Coke?"

"Coke," Seever confirmed.

A long obvious silence descended over the dinner table. Seever spoke first, "look I know that you and Charlie are… well, together and I think that's great. He's a really special guy and he really loves you."

Dani's eyes narrowed, "but…" she ventured. There was invariably always a "but" when anyone was that nice to her.

"But nothing," Seever gushed. "He's just kinda goofy sometimes and I'm wondering…"

"Has he always been?" Dani offered.

"Yeah," Seever breathed a relieved sigh that Dani got what she was driving at.

"Crews is not what you think he is," Dani said mysteriously. "You think you know him and what look he's gonna give you, but he'll surprise you."

"Honestly, I don't think anyone else sees him the way you do, knows him the way you do. He's connected to you in ways that he doesn't show or share with anyone else."

"And you know this how?" Dani wondered.

"When we're working, he'll get this look…and I know he wants to say something, but the person he wants to talk to isn't there," Seever explained. "You're here. And for just a moment he seems sad, but then he usually steps away and calls you or…sometimes I think he talks to you – even when you aren't there," she whispered secretively.

Dani said nothing, but thought about that night in the club on the wire when this all unraveled and led them to where they were supposed to be. Maybe Crews was a touch crazy, but he was her kind of nuts.

He came back juggling three two-liter bottles of soda. "I brought them all," he announced. Both women exchanged a knowing grin, but Dani rescued him by taking two bottles from his arms. She always rescued him and she always would.

He draped an arm across Dani possessively as they bid Seever a goodnight. She waved and drove off in a small non-descript hybrid car that made almost no noise.

"She's nice," Dani commented.

"She's young and talented and scary smart. She can read like 10 pages a minute and remembers every word. She once wrote everything I said – all – day – long," he recounted. "It was awful."

"She's also pretty and fit and has great legs and a beautiful smile. She wears clothes well and probably fucks like a gymnast," Dani commented.

Charlie wisely did not speak.

"And you chose me?"

"Yep," he leaned down and kissed her. "And I always will."

"Why?" she wondered suddenly serious.

"You're my one, Dani." He answered as though it was obvious and those few words explained everything.

"Your one what?"

"My everything that is and ever will be," he explained. "When I'm with you, I feel whole. And when I'm not with you, I don't. Sometimes I pretend you're there and it helps, but when you're here…" he hugged her tightly against him, "I'm just better."

"Tomorrow we go find my dad?"

"Tomorrow we go find your dad," he confirmed.

* * *

They found Jack Reese at a nursing home near Reno. He'd been transferred there after he'd no longer needed urgent care. The state they found him in explained a lot. He'd been shot in the head, but the bullet had failed to kill him. It had however rendered him a quadriplegic and mute.

His would be killers thought him dead and had removed all of his fingers at the first knuckle to thwart identification. It had done the job. Reese had languished in the system because with no one looking for him and the backlog at the crime lab, DNA profiles took months and that was a long shot. It relied upon someone filing a missing persons report on a sixty-year-old man.

Dani recognized him immediately. His eyes showed first shock, then hatred as Crews stepped into the room behind her. "Dad," she gasped.

Reese could not move, he could not speak, he could not communicate with anything but his eyes. Tears welled for Dani, but the message in his eyes was clear to Crews. It was hatred and fear.

"I can make sure that he's comfortable and well cared for," Crews promised her.

"My mom can't know," Dani whispered hoarsely. "She'd feel like she had to take care of him. He'd steal the rest of her life. She can't know."

Jack Reese heard it all. He was trapped in his own special hell.

"I need a minute," Dani told her partner and leaned on him for support.

Charlie Crews was not as Zen as he might otherwise appear because when his mate left the room he leaned very close to the old man and spoke low words only for his tormentor's ears.

"Do you believe in the concept of karma, Jack? I do. It holds that the evil we do is revisited upon us in time. You can never tell the time or place when karma will catch you, but it always does. Your prison is a dark place, Jack. So much worse than the one you sent me to; I was only behind bars, but your prison is complete. You'll never feel the warmth of her love again, you'll never know all the things she'll do, the places she'll go and the ways I'll take care of her. They say that karma is a fickle bitch. You know what I think Jack? I think they are right."

He pulled back and watched the fear in the man's eyes. Charlie knew the scent of fear and Jack Reese reeked of it. "I'm gonna make sure you live a nice long time here in this place – in your prison."

Reese growled at him, but it was all he could summon. The once powerful man had been reduced to this. Charlie pitied him. He felt shame for his victory, but he also felt righteous that he had not done this Jack – that the life he'd chosen had done it. Charlie's hands were clean of this wrong.

"Crews," Dani spoke to him. "Let's go," she beckoned holding out her hand.

When he reached her Charlie twisted the knife one more time, as he held her, caressed her neck and bent to kiss her. "Tell me you're okay," he murmured across her cheek.

"He got what he deserved," Dani seemed relieved and disgusted all at once. "My mother is free of him, we all are. All the people he hurt, all the terrible things he did…to live like this…it must be hell."

"It is," Charlie assured her. "It's like being in prison, only his prison is his own body."

"It's fitting," she sounded resigned. "How long could he live like this?"

"Years," Charlie offered.

"Twelve years?" she wondered.

"Maybe," he kept his tone neutral. He didn't want to show her his vengeful side.

"Then maybe he'll have paid for some of his sins," she pronounced. Dani could be a hard woman sometimes and unforgiving, but he loved her for all her faults. She was tender under all that toughness and he knew that she'd come back here. She'd visit, she'd read to him or just look in. She'd tell her mother to move on, but the little girl who loved her "Daddy" was still there; just a ghost of her, but he could still see it. Charlie Crews would quietly fund whatever care was needed, but Jack Reese would never walk, speak, threaten or harm anyone again.

"Can you give us a minute?" Dani asked and he stepped away into the hall and began making the arrangements that would ensure a long existence for his nemesis.

"I looked for you. Even though I didn't want to find you – I looked. You left, Dad. First when I was twelve, then last year you finally disappeared entirely. I don't know what happened to you; why you did this to our family. I'll never know, but I'm okay not knowing. Some things are unknowable, Crews taught me that."

She looked up expectantly but there was no reaction. Jack stared straight ahead.

She almost laughed at the insanity of it. "All my life, I've lived my life as reaction to you. Only after you were gone did I find something real, someone who mattered and someone who will never leave. It took you leaving to show me that there was another way, so in a way I should thank you, Dad."

"Crews thinks I'll come back here. He thinks that I'm nicer than I really am. I love that he thinks that about me, but I won't. I'll go now, walk out that door, live a rich, full life and never look back. You didn't."

She walked to the door and then turned. "I'm gonna get married, I'm gonna have kids some day and you're going to miss it all. I hope it was worth it, Dad. I hope that your hell here gives you some time to think about what your choices did to our family. Me, mom… and Charlie – he's my family now."

She let that thought sink in and watched as Jack Reese's eyes contracted in rage.

"Crews would say this is karma, maybe he's right." The comment was as much for her as it was her father. A light smile played on her face at the thought and she turned walking away from her past and towards her future – who waited just outside the door… fidgeting. His smile, the one he saved only for her, appeared and his hands stilled moments before he reached for hers.

"I wanna go home," she told him.

"I know honey," he said softly and she let him lead her to the car. He drove home and they retreated upstairs, undressed and fell into bed. Sleep would not come, but he simply held her and stroked her hair. He waited for the tears that would not come. Dani wouldn't let them.

After a time, she fell into a restless sleep, lulled there by the twin soothing elements of his measured breathing and steady heartbeat. He lay awake and maintained a silent vigil. She whimpered and moaned in her sleep and each time he would speak in low tones and sooth her troubled sleep until she eased, but it was a long night.

In the morning, neither was rested but there was much to be done.

"I have to tell my mother," she said dully over coffee.

He didn't remark, he waited because he knew she had more to say. She knew without asking that he'd go with her, stay with her and bear her anger and frustration.

"I don't want to lie to her, but…" she began.

"Sometimes a lie is kinder than the truth," he knew she was thinking.

"Is it?" she wondered.

"For a long time I didn't let on that your father was involved in sending me to prison because I thought you should remember him as your dad, not as someone else," he offered.

"But I always knew he wasn't a good man," she replied. "And I think I knew he'd done something to you or not done something that would have helped you. Even then it bothered me. I think I know…I think we always know. Sometimes we can just not see what's in front of us."

"Learned blindness is what some people would call love," he ventured.

"Is it?"

"Say 'is it?' one more time and I'll shoot you," he joked.

Her smile was small and wry but it was there. "Funny," she said dryly.

"Only you can decide what to tell your mom," he was serious, "and only you must live with your choice."

"I just know that what little freedom she's gained will be lost and she'll be chained to him in that hospital bed until the old bastard dies," she said dourly.

He rubbed her back between her shoulder blades and kissed her neck. "It's not an easy choice to make, but sometimes when you love someone you choose for them and never let them know of the sacrifice."

"If she ever finds out, she'll hate me," Dani mused.

"That's not possible," he assured. "She might be angry, but she could never hate you."

"No?" Dani laughed darkly. "Because I'm her daughter? I hate my father Crews. You hate yours…don't your?"

"Maybe, but I think you love your father too," he led her where she needed to go. "If you didn't, this wouldn't be so hard."

"When this is all over, I want to go back to Tahiti for a month," she told him and she meant it. "Life was so easy there; no family, no job, no suspension, no bills, no worries. It was just you and me, the beach, the spa, the ocean and sushi. If they had better coffee, I'd move there," she was joking but she did yearn for a return to easier, less troubled times.

"Let's go," he offered. "When this is over, we'll go for a month….or a year," he was earnest and her look conveyed her skepticism.

"What about work?" she threw up roadblocks.

"I'll quit," he ventured boldly.

"Okay, I hate to break this to you but living the kind of life you do….we do... together, that takes money," she replied tersely.

"Dani," he was patient with her. "My settlement was for over fifty million dollars. Other than the solar farm, the orange grove, this house and a few cars and clothes I haven't spent much."

"You have spent more in just the time I've known you than I'll make in a lifetime," she outright laughed.

"Oh, ye of little faith," he chastised her smiling all the while. "Ted invested my money wisely. Right now, at this very moment, I have over seventy million dollars in the bank. We could buy an island if we wanted."

She stared at him. The man was unbelievable. He still pumped his own gas and mowed his own yard on occasion; she'd seen him do it.

"That's just crazy talk," she spun away.

"I only talk crazy to you," he caught her and turned her. "You know that."

"You are talking about walking away from everything we've ever known…" she argued.

"Where were we best?"

She gave him a quizzical look.

"Where were you just longing for moments ago?"

Her look remained puzzled, but interested, "I'm not sure I follow."

"Tahiti," he said, "a place neither of us had ever been, didn't know and weren't sure what to expect. We were happy there. I think we can be happy anywhere as long as we are together. Maybe what we really need is to let go – of our past. The wrongs we've done and those done to us. Let go of those things we thought made us who we were and just be who we are. That's enough."

She stared at him a very long time, long enough that he began to consider repeating or re-emphasizing some of what he'd said or maybe even softening it or walking it back. _It wasn't crazy, but maybe it was too much_ he thought.

Then she spoke the one word that would change everything. All she said was "okay." And it was.

Whether at the beach or in the mountains, in the US or abroad, in the heat of a desert or the cold of the arctic, rich or poor, sick or well - all they really needed was each other. It reminded him of marriage vows, but he chose not to share that thought. They would let go – together. The only thing he needed to hold onto was her.


End file.
